


Setting You Free

by Naferty



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Bilbo, Bilbo & Gandalf are Bros, Bilbo does everything, Bilbo is kind of a jerk, Bonding, Dragon Bilbo, Dwarf Culture & Customs, He'll end up saving them all, He'll get better, M/M, Oblivious Bilbo, Protective Bilbo, Sassy Bilbo, Scratch that he's a huge jerk, Slow Build, The actual relationship won't happen for a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 66,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naferty/pseuds/Naferty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins may look like an ordinary, everyday hobbit, but in reality that’s far from the truth. Bilbo’s hobbit form is a curse, casted upon him from the Valar themselves. The only way to break the curse and regain his true form from the tiny and weak body he detests with his very soul is through death. Easy, right? Wrong. The catch of the curse is, he can’t die. No matter how many times he’s tried, he can’t get injured or scratched or even get a broken finger. He can't die.</p><p>What is a poor dragon like himself to do? Why, have a meddlesome wizard take him on another journey with another promise of the death he’s always wanted and the freedom he is desperate for. But there’s another catch. The journey involves him traveling with dwarves, one of the many pitiful races he detest. Surely the answer to his curse is not dwarves that aren't worthy of his time. He’d end up killing them before they reached the end. </p><p>What could these dwarves even give him to set him free?<br/>(I'm throwing in the towel. I'm unable to finish this.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pre-Life

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this fic for a while now. It's been swimming around in my head and I'm finally writing it in words. I hope you guys enjoy it~!

_“May you be cursed to love and cherish those beneath you, and beg for freedom but never acquire it. Live a never ending life and suffer with what you deemed unworthy, and only get the peace of mind you desire by means of death that can only be brought upon through sacrifice.”_

 

Those were the words that haunted Bilbo Baggins day and night, and will continue to until he finally gained his freedom. The words were a curse, placed upon him by the Valar as punishment for the numerous actions he had done in his younger years. Granted, he was foolish and greedy in his youth, and had he known that in the end he would suffer for all the destruction he caused he would have smacked himself and ended his own life a long time ago. But the point was he didn’t, and now he was being tormented to live the rest of his, immortal days in the comfort of a smial with a tiny body that was barely useful for anything other than eating.

To others this kind of life sounded like a delightful sanctuary, but for a being like himself, who was meant to fly through the sky and enjoy the gentle and sometimes fierce winds course through his scales, this wasn’t a life at all. For you see, Bilbo Baggins was in fact a dragon, and he was a grand dragon if he said so himself. He was a dragon that had a curse placed on him after he went mad with power and destroyed villages and took lives when gold wasn’t enough for him anymore.

He deemed pitiful creatures that could barely stand a chance against him unworthy and a nuisance. Everything they cherished was not worth anything, and he had decided to help the pitiful creatures by ending their misery. It was, apparently, the wrong thing to do. On the faithful day when his grand life was taken from his talons, the winds turned against him and his own fire burned his scales away. The horrid words chanted over his head, repeating and tormenting with no end in sight. He was forced to be the very image he saw unfit. He became a small, pitiful creature, even smaller than what he originally deemed unworthy. His wings were gone, his fire was vanquished, and his sight had receded to barely showing him what was in front of his, now disgraceful nose.

He wanted to roar at the sky and roar at those responsible, but all that came out was a pathetic cry. When he regained his bearing he attempted the first thing that came to mind. Never would he have allowed such a thing to befall him, and even less was he going to see it through and live as a small, defenseless creature. He attempted death by his own hands, but soon learned that even that was taken from him. Death never came, neither by his own hands, other’s hands, nor by the many years that passed.

The Valar had taken everything from him. They had taken his fire, taken his wings, taken his pride and taken his reputation amongst his kin. Not even dragon fire could end his life, and the very beasts he had loyal to him turned their backs and laughed at his face. His own kin!

On that day, the grand dragon Endis died, and what was left in his wake was a pathetic shell not worthy enough to continue, and yet that was exactly what he did. After years of torment, he had accepted the words of the curse and learned them by heart. His salvation was on the very wordings themselves. _Gain his peace by means of death through sacrifice_ , but like any curse it wasn’t simple enough to end. From his understanding of sacrifice he attempted and failed from his many efforts at exchanging his life for another. He ended up saving multiple lives that were not his own, but he never got what he wanted out of it, his death.

The years piled on him, and after the 270th attempt he finally gave up and accepted his fate. He was to live and suffer for what he had done. The ages came and went. He watched settlements grow and expand, watched the pitiful creatures he once deemed unworthy live their lives only to fade away and leave him behind to live forevermore. He came to understand every race created by the very beings that left him to suffer, and he learned to hide himself well from curious eyes.

Over the years he gained many different names. He traveled months at a time, going from one part of middle-earth to the other without a single hair turning white or wrinkles forming on his face. He helped a settlement that was made entirely of the very creature he was turned to, escorted them west and assisted in planting their seeds for what was to become the future homeland of the hobbits. When the first generation on the new land began to fade away he disappeared temporarily, only returning when the fourth began and disappeared again when they themselves faded away.

This was his life since then, and while he learned to appreciate the little things these hobbits found comfort in, he still hated it. His fire was gone, his hope killed, and he had nothing to live for. His gold-lust was taken from him, as was his madness with power. In the end he had no purpose to keep on living, no reason to continue. He welcomed death with open arms, but no matter how much he begged it never came.

There was one good thing that happened during these years and it managed to flicker a spark of hope in him. A wizard introduced himself during one of his travels. A wizard that knew exactly what he was.

He didn’t fear the wizard, for overtime he learned to embrace his immortality and use it for his own entertainment. He had nothing to worry about from attempts at ending his life, and even if he did he would welcome it eagerly. The wizard was interesting, and from him he gained new light. Using his immortality to his advantage, the wizard took him through his travels and asked for aid during quests. He ended up not minding it one bit, for through the wizard he gained the feeling of purpose, and a reason to possibly continue. Of course getting entertainment from the journey was also a bonus.

Returning to the Shire after one journey he had gained a new name, Bilbo, and quite possibly a new friend. Belladonna was an odd creature indeed, but through the oddness he found warmth he had never felt in all his life. The hobbit lass had no idea what he truly was, and while many others, including men, elves and dwarves, would turn away and never give him a second thought, she did the exact opposite and regarded him openly. She was an adventurous and curious child, but somehow she had warmed her way to his heart. During those years he almost felt like his fire in him had returned, and it only increased as he watched her grow. Belladonna became something special to him, something he did not want to lose, and she in turn felt the same way. She called him a friend once. He had a descriptive understanding of what it meant, and came to the conclusion that it must be what he was feeling for her. He also felt the same way for the wizard, against his better judgment. He had two friends, and he swore he could almost breathe his fire out of enjoyment.

It all ended when Belladonna was met with death. Bilbo never imagined himself to hate death, after living so many years wanting it to come, but when he heard the news of her and her husband Bungo’s death, hatred was all he felt. The warmth he once had vanished instantly and he grew cold and distant. With their death came the news that he was now the proud owner of Bag End. Belladonna had placed in their wills that if she and her husband were to pass without an heir, their home would be handed over to Bilbo, who was also a Baggins thanks to her and Bungo’s last minute present.

And that was how Endis ended and Bilbo Baggins began. With a smial to call his own, and greedy relatives that had their eye on it and tried searching for loopholes, he remained hidden inside and ignored the outside world. He accepted his immortal fate and prepared himself to watch those around him fade. He planned to remain in the Shire, inside Bag End as the world rotted away. He didn’t even care if those around him grew suspicious. It was not as if they could actually cause him harm. He couldn’t die, after all.

One thing that apparently slipped his mind was his other friend that was still alive and kicking, but could you blame him? His mind was clouded from the loss of Belladonna, even after the many years that passed after her death. He never counted the meddlesome wizard to actually go out of his way and search for him, and yet, sitting outside near Bag End’s gates was the very same wizard walking closer and closer until-

“To think, of all the place to find you it was amongst the gentlefolk that you decided to hide.” The wizard stood in front of him, leaning against his staff casually.

Bilbo didn’t open his eyes and continued to bask in the sunlight. “Gandalf. It’s been many years.”

“Indeed, at least you still remember my name.”

Bilbo snorted and opened his eyes. “As if I can forget. What can I do for you?”

“I am looking for someone to-”

The hobbit new instantly what he was saying and finished without missing a beat, “join in an adventure. I believe I’ve heard this before.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “Gandalf, I can’t. I’ve had enough with traveling, and socializing, and quite frankly the outside world, honestly.”

“So you have given up?”

“I gave up a long time ago, and you know this already.”

Gandalf scoffed. “To think you have decided to spend the rest of your days locked away while the world continues to move forward! You could be doing much more.”

Bilbo gave him a pointed look. “And I have, need I remind you? I’ve saved villages, I’ve helped travelers, what more do you want from me? I’m fated to live on for eternity; can’t I have a moment of peace before then?”

Gandalf tapped the ground with his staff. “Which is exactly the reason why you should be doing more. You have the rest of eternity for your moment of peace. Accomplish grand feats before you lock yourself away from the world.”

Bilbo muttered under his breath. There was just no getting through the wizard. “I’ll accomplish great feats later. Right now I don’t want anything to do with adventures, or quests, or whatever it is you’re trying to rope me in.” He stood up and began walking back to Bag End.

“You have changed, Bilbo and not for the better.” Gandalf grounded.

The hobbit had a hand on the door and kept it there. “Yes, well in case you haven’t noticed I’ve been changed since the beginning. I’m something I’m not supposed to be, and you can’t blame me for _not_ wanting to do something I was never intended to do.”

“And yet you still managed it. Why stop now?”

“Because I’m giving up.” Bilbo repeated. “I’m giving up completely, Gandalf.”

“Even if I ask of it amongst friends?” Gandalf pressed on.

Bilbo remained silent for a moment, thinking it over until he finally said, “Yes, even if you ask I will say no to you, friend.”

But Gandalf was not surrendering. “What if I told you that this adventure might be the key to your freedom?”

Bilbo remained unaffected. “You’ve said this before as well, and yet I’m still standing here. The last adventures didn’t grant me my freedom.”  

“Then attempt this one more time, my friend. If you are successful then you will be free from this land instead of holed up while the world spins on. If you are not then I won’t ever ask for you again, you have my word on this. What do you have to lose?”

Bilbo really hated this part of Gandalf. The part that spoke reason was always irritating. How could one fight that logic? If he somehow broke the curse he’d be free from this wretched world, but if he didn’t at least the old wizard would leave him alone. That’s if he could trust his word. Either way, they are both good outcomes, and he honestly had nothing to lose. He had no family, his only friend was the wizard that was most likely tagging along, and he couldn’t die.

Looking at the green door of Bag End another reason came up. Belladonna wouldn’t want him hiding from the world. She always encouraged his travels. When she was finally old enough she even tagged along for the nearby places, making the journey mean so much more. He couldn’t do that to her, taking away the one thing they shared together. He smiled at the image of Belladonna calling him a fool if she ever heard of his isolation. The thought sent a feeling of warmth to his chest.

With a faded image of Belladonna waking the back of his head for his foolishness he turned to Gandalf and asked, “Would you like to come inside and tell me the details of this adventure?”

The wizard smiled and eagerly nodded, following him inside and making the explanation quick.


	2. Welcome to Bag End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of the dwarves arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness, guys. I didn't think so many people would be interested in this by the first chapter. Now I'm a bit nervous!  
> Hope you still enjoy it.

Bag End was ready and set for the rowdy visitors Bilbo no doubt knew would come crashing through the door. The moment Gandalf had uttered the words _Dwarves_ everything he was prepared for was shot out the window. Of all the races in the land to have to travel with, the last race he wanted was the ill-mannered, too loud, and more often than not greedy dwarves. Granted, he was greedy in his younger years too, but that added all the more reasons why he and the dwarves just wouldn’t get along.

As a dragon, the dwarves were the race that resisted him the most, what with their love of gold and gems. They constantly broke into his home in attempts to end his life and claim what rightfully belonged to him. When gold wasn’t enough to sate his needs Bilbo had flown through the sky and targeted dwarves most often in his mad raids. He had no love for them, and in return, dwarves had no love for him. Even now, the very thought of allowing dwarves inside Bag End, inside the home of his dear Belladonna, sent a burning hatred down his gut. Gandalf should have known better. Asking a favor to help a group of dwarves. Bilbo would sooner jump off a mountain if he knew it could actually kill him then help them. But no matter how much he tried to say no, Gandalf would hear none of it.

And so, Bag End was ready. He made sure to hide and put away all important and sentimental items from their reach. He worried for his plates, but not much could be done about those. How else would these dwarves eat without silverware? No, Bilbo would have to bite his words and keep himself back. That did not mean he won’t snap the moment these dwarves did something to gain his ill-favor.

The first knock of the night came too soon. Holding his breath, Bilbo marched to the door with determination and once he had it open he looked unimpressed with what stood before him. The dwarf in his front door was unoriginal and was the spitting image of other typical dwarves he ran across over the years. The tattoos were not intimidating at all, and his baldness only added him amongst the list of dwarves with receding and/or missing hair. Lacking top hair was far too common with dwarves, almost as common as with men. Bilbo couldn’t figure out if their lack of hair was natural, or by choice for some fashion.

Either way, this dwarf was already on Bilbo’s list of ‘ _Don’t waste your time on_.’ If he was to travel with dwarves then he was going to make sure to pick the few dwarves of actual importance and ignore the ones he could care less.

“Dwalin,” the dwarf said before bowing in respect, “at your service.”

Bilbo gritted his teeth. “Bilbo Baggins, at yours.”

Without another word or even invitation the dwarf pushed himself inside and began demanding food that was promised, and from the way he walked to the kitchen Bilbo could tell he followed his nose and found it.

“Excuse me!” Bilbo said when the dwarf began poking around. Living as a hobbit and being friends with Belladonna taught him manners, and no matter his opinion on someone he was not about to go off uncivilized, but this dwarf was pushing his limit.

His respectable manner was completely forgotten when the dwarf promptly ignored him in favor of snatching cheese. If only Bilbo had his fire. He would singe the dwarf of his beard in no time. Sadly, being cursed as a hobbit took away that and so much more. All he was left was a voice, an attitude and a body who refused to seek death. He wasn’t afraid to push boundaries, and he certainly wasn’t afraid of a mere dwarf with two axes strapped on his back. He had seen and faced far worse things. This dwarf was nothing more than a crumb of a cake.

Snatching the cheese from the dwarf’s offending hand he placed it back down to its rightful place with more force than necessary and glared down the dwarf. “Now see here. I may be hosting you for the night and I may be feeding you and your dwarven company, but if you think for one minute that I will stand idly by and allow you to do as you please you have another thing coming! If you so much as leave a speck of dirt on this floor you won’t see a single piece of meat and will have to survive the night on nothing but green food! Oh, and will you look at that? There’s a trail of mud just around the corner.” Bilbo’s eyes never faltered their glare and even dared the dwarf to fight him on it.

The look the dwarf was left with was priceless. He was shocked, surprised, offended, and if Bilbo studied it closer, frightened. The very thought of having nothing but green food to eat for the night must have been terrifying to leave him in such a state.

Dwalin composed himself and glared back. “You would treat your guest in such a way?”

Bilbo gave him a feral grin. “ _Master Dwarf_ , you have already pushed your boundaries. I won’t hesitate to throw you out at this very moment, and trust me, I am quite tempted in doing so. Do not forget that you are in _my_ home and are about to eat _my_ food that I have so graciously prepared for you. I am very much _king_ here so do not argue with me.”

Somewhere (not so deep) inside Bilbo he almost wanted the dwarf to challenge him. The image of throwing a shell-shocked dwarf down the road and out of Bag End would be the talk of the town. Could you just envision it? Small, weak and defenseless Bilbo Baggins, a gentle hobbit who hid behind books and tea, throwing out a big, tattooed and gruff-faced dwarf? Bilbo even admitted it was beyond imaginable, but that was only if you didn’t know the truth. Oh no. Bilbo was anything but defenseless and he was eager to show everyone.

Luckily for the dwarf he didn’t need to. Something in his refusing to bend over seemed to appease Dwalin because his surprised face melted into a grin. “Seems our burglar has a backbone after all.”

Bilbo ignored him. “If I recall, there is a trail of mud that needs to be cleaned.”

Dwalin grunted, threw him a seething look and walked away, taking dawdling steps to get under Bilbo’s nerves. For the most part it was working and Bilbo had to reshoot the glare back, but otherwise kept himself preoccupied by finishing up what was left of the meal. It went on like this for a time. When Dwalin finished his mess he sat himself on the only table in the smial and tapped impatiently while staring at nothing in particular. Bilbo was going to have none of that.

“Care to make yourself useful and gather more chairs for the rest?” He ordered more than asked.

The glare was back as Dwalin grunted and stood up again. With directions from Bilbo he gathered the chairs and extended the table to fit all who were to arrive, and right as he placed the last chair another set of knocks echoed in Bag End. Bilbo was about to go and get it but Dwalin rudely beat him to it. Focusing on the food he heard mumbles and whispers between the one who knocked and Dwalin. From the way they were happily toned he guessed the two were already acquainted.

Deciding he lollygagged enough Bilbo marched out of the kitchen to introduce himself. The newcomer was a shorter dwarf with a full head of silver hair and a puffy beard. He looked much kinder than the first with a warm smile that almost made Bilbo grimaced. His eyes showed wisdom so that added him to the list of _“Knowledgeable but otherwise not important.”_ And maybe Bilbo would spend a couple of minutes a day during the journey with him. The dwarf still shouldn’t get his hopes up.

“Balin,” the puffy dwarf said, “at your service.” His hands spread out in greeting.

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours.” Bilbo didn’t mimic him. “The food isn’t done yet, but I have tea and scones on the side for you while you wait.” Usually, knowledgeable dwarves meant that they knew a thing or two about manners, and that involved understanding how to properly hold teacups. He only hoped this dwarf knew about that.

“That would be most kind of you. I’ll have some.” Balin had his kind eyes staring at him and it caused Bilbo’s hands to twitch.

“Great, go ahead and sit down and I’ll get them out for you.” Bilbo turned without another word and returned back to the food, making sure nothing burned and grabbed the tea with a basket of scones. When he brought the two back for Balin he found them both sitting next to each other and muttering between themselves, stopping when they spotted him.

“Thank you, Master Baggins.” Balin said as he grabbed the basket and a cup. On his side Dwalin was glaring at him, clearly still upset at having to clean up the mess he made.

“Tell me then, when will the others be here? Are they going to appear one by one or in a group?” Bilbo didn’t want to be constantly walking back and forth between the front door and his kitchen.

“They’ll be here soon.” Balin answered. “We were to arrive as a group but some of us went ahead instead.”

“I see.” Bilbo muttered and went back to his kitchen. From in the dining hall he continued to hear the two dwarves talk but could never decipher what they were saying. The way they were talking intensely made him guess it wasn’t anything good. Sometimes he heard his name being said and sometimes he heard a completely different language spoken. They were most likely talking about him in that horrid language of their own. What was it named? Khuz? Khasdil?

He had a mind to walk up to them and smack them over their heads. Talking about him behind his back in his own home, why Bilbo could see their beards burned off right then.

Thankfully they stopped when another knock was heard and caused Bilbo to grumble as he walked back to the door. This time he was met with the image of two dwarves of opposite hair color and one with too small a beard. A child, without a doubt. The last thing Bilbo needed was to be grouped with a child. He might accidently kill them just for being annoyed.

“Fili,” The blond one said, followed by the brunette, “and Kili. At your service.” They finished together in a bow. The Kili one straightened, smiled and said “You must be Mister Boggins.”

Bilbo didn’t even have the effort to correct him. Already, he was annoyed. “Is anyone else with you?”

“No,” Kili walked inside without being invited, “just us two for now.”

Fili followed after him, strutting inside as if it was his own home. Bilbo narrowed his eyes just as Fili brought out his weapons and gave them to him. “Careful with them, I just had them sharpened.”

Off to the side he heard the sound of scratching on a woodened box and quickly Bilbo snapped his head to look. He found Kili was cleaning his boots on Belladonna’s glory box. Bilbo was seeing red at the sheer audacity of it all. The dwarf was desecrating Belladonna’s memory and Bilbo was not going to stand for it. Not even looking at the blond dwarf he threw the weapons back in his arms rather harshly, causing the dwarf to take steps back in order to balance and avoid falling. When Kili made another motion to run his boot over the box again Bilbo snatched it from the bottom and pushed him back. He fell back first with his legs in the air and a very shocked look on his face.

“You may be guests in my home but don’t think for one minute I won’t hesitate to throw you out.” Bilbo growled, repeating the same words he used on Dwalin. “That is my precious friend’s glory box, not a damn boot cleaner! I won’t have you insult her memory like this and unless you wish to be thrown and attend this meeting _outside_ without a single bite of food you will find a cloth and clean every speck of dirt you put on this box right now!”

The dwarf’s face was beyond shock and even had a bit of horror on his face. The blond one also had a similar look on him. The sound of boots coming closer signaled the arrival of Dwalin and Balin who probably heard the commotion and came as fast as they could. When they spotted Kili on the floor they both looked around in disbelief for an explanation.

“I, I-I…” Kili stuttered.

“I will not repeat myself again!” That got the young dwarf moving. He jumped up and looked around desperately for anything to clean the box with. He even asked the blond dwarf to help out in his searching.

Bilbo didn’t leave his spot and didn’t once falter his glare until both dwarves were cleaning the box, furiously trying to scrub the mud away.

“What are you both doing?” Dwalin stepped up.

“They are cleaning the mess they made.” Bilbo answered, still glaring at the two. From behind him he heard someone sighed.

“Lads what did you both do?” It was Balin that asked.

Again, it was Bilbo that answered, “One of them decided to use my friend’s glory box to clean his boots.”

“All this for a glory box?” Dwalin said, earning the glare Bilbo was giving.

“My _deceased_ friend.” Bilbo growled lowly.

A silence fell upon them. Dwalin looked guilty from asking and Balin had the face of disappointment. Kili and Fili were now scrubbing to the point of nearly rubbing their fingers off.

Satisfied, Bilbo marched back to the kitchen to continue preparing the meal. Having let himself be known as someone who won’t take disrespect sitting down he trusted the four dwarves to keep themselves out of trouble. Well, he didn’t exactly trust them but they had a general idea of what he would do if they did something wrong. Child or elder, he won’t falter to act.

Until the rest of the group arrived Bilbo busied himself until he didn’t have anything to do. The food was finished but no new dwarves arrived. Instead of facing the four that were already here he found small things to do to keep him busy or simply walked around to look like he was doing something. He really didn’t want to speak with any of them. His nerves were already on high and he felt he might accidently break something just by looking at it.

Oh he wished.

To have the power to intimidate with just his eyes. One of the features he longed for after he was cursed. His sharp eyes, once able to see the detail of a small plant from miles up in the sky. Now he was stuck with these hobbit eyes that didn’t look any farther than a plate full of food in front of him.

Why was he unlucky?

The memories of what he once was left him feeling weak and pathetic, and already he could tell this journey wasn’t going to give him what he wanted.


	3. Durable Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwarves arriving part 2.

The rest of the dwarves arrived in Bag End, and just like the first four these left him unimpressed. Not only from the fact that they all looked so… ordinary but also from the fact that they all fell face first over each other the moment he opened the door for them. It was a pile of dwarves, and suddenly he got the urge to get the broom and just brush them back outside. Of course that was the moment Gandalf decided to crouch down and make himself present and if Bilbo was to truly get the broom the old wizard would never let him hear the end of it.

_‘To think, Bilbo would turn away guests in Belladonna’s own home as if they were specks of dust! Belladonna would be livid with you.’_

Oh yes, never hear the end of it.

Ignoring the dwarves on the ground Bilbo greeted Gandalf with a smile, and meant it. “Gandalf. I was wondering when you’d show up. Are these all the guests?”

“I’m afraid we’re missing one more, but he’ll be here any moment now.” Gandalf walked over the pile inside.

“Am I safe to guess this last one is their leader?” Bilbo questioned as the dwarves began to dust themselves up.

Gandalf gave him a pointed look. “He is.” Bilbo could tell the old wizard wanted to say more on the matter, but because of curious eyes and ears they couldn’t speak of it. Instead, their attention went to one dwarf who had the courage to walk up to Bilbo and wrap an arm around his shoulder.

“Aye the leader is on his way but in the mean time you’re lucky and have us to entertain you!” On contact Bilbo’s eyes snapped at the offending arm around him. The dwarf he could already tell was of the merry sort. He had a ridiculous hat on, a smile that could cause a group of goblins to fall in pain from the sight and the nerve to think they were already on friendly terms for the right to touch any part of Bilbo.

When Bilbo didn’t respond the dwarf finally noticed the stare he was giving his arm and retracted it. “Sorry! Sorry, I shouldn’t have touched without permission.” The dwarf said nervously.

“Oh no, that’s quite alright.” Bilbo gave a fake smile, and without bothering to get their names he walked off to the kitchen to gather what he made. “Foods ready if anyone is hungry.”

There was slow movement that followed after him. Some went to sit while others went off to gather what they wanted. Bilbo allowed it, for now, and grinned when the four dwarves he became acquainted with first whispered furiously for the others not to be too open.

The food placed was all their doing, with Bilbo ordering where everything went. Their table manners were atrocious. Food was flying everywhere and many were shouting and talking with their mouths full. One even dared to walk on the table with their boots on!

Bilbo had to walk away before he did something Gandalf or Belladonna wouldn’t approve of. He headed for his chair in front of the fireplace and sat, trying to tune out the mess coming from the dining room. He wasn’t alone. Gandalf had followed him and stood, walking around as he began, “You know, Belladonna would be beside herself if she saw you right now.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Bilbo said. “You’ve used her plenty of times for today; don’t you think you need new material to use against me?”

“Fighting is not what I’m here for.”

“No of course not. You’re here to tell me to be nicer to these dwarves, aren’t you?”

Gandalf hummed. “No. I can’t change who you are simply by telling you to. That’s all up to you. But I do ask for you to be more… friendly, in a sense.”

“Friendly?” Bilbo mused. “Why, I’m the friendliest hobbit around, Gandalf. I have neighbors always asking to come over for tea.”

“You and I both know that is a lie, on all three accounts.” Gandalf’s face grew serious. “Bilbo, all I ask is for you not to do anything drastic before the journey even begins. Don’t go and traumatize any of the company and don’t accidently kill them either. I know your nature, especially when it comes to dwarves.”

Bilbo stood. “Do you truly believe I will do such a thing? Do you have little faith in me? Then why even ask me to help in this quest if you knew exactly what you are dealing with? Honestly, you’d think by now you’d know.”

Gandalf loomed over him, using his height difference to prove a point. “Enough! I have complete faith in you, my friend. I know exactly what I’m dealing with and I wouldn’t have come here in the first place if I didn’t understand. I know your true nature, even if you don’t or refuse to see it yourself. It is them,” he pointed towards the dining room where all the dwarves were still gathered and singing, “that I do not trust.”

“Seems a bit contradictive, don’t you think? If you don’t trust them then why are you even helping them?”

“I don’t trust them to not do something rash. I know your nature but I also know your limits. You were never really good with,” Gandalf waved his hands helplessly, trying to find the correct word, “children.” He finally said. “And considering your actual age they’re probably babes to you.”

“So you think I’ll lose my temper.” Bilbo thought it over. “Most likely. I’ve already lost my temper earlier. They’re still alive!” He quickly added when Gandalf looked upset. “Enough of this. Is this what you wanted to tell me? I need to go back and make sure they haven’t broken anything.”

“That is all, but,” Bilbo stopped just as he was about to pass through the door, “do try to get along.”

Bilbo grinned. “Come now. Getting along is my specialty.” Turning away, the hobbit never saw the look of despair on the wizard’s face.

To prove his point Bilbo was about to _kindly_ tell the young, bowl-haired dwarf that cautiously walked up to him where exactly to place his plate when the Fili fellow decided to ignore the earlier incident with the glory box and snatched the plate, throwing it over to Kili.

If Bilbo had his fire the whole place would have been ashes on that moment. Thankfully, (for once. Bilbo didn’t want to be responsible for burning down Belladonna’s home) he didn’t have his fire and Bag End was safe for another day. The dwarves began a most peculiar thing with the dish throwing and after he shouted “Don’t break any of those dishes or blunt the knives or so help me!” did they start singing a song that he knew they had made up on the spot. The song was about him, obviously the dwarves were improvising. He had to praise them on that department, though. For being dwarves they were certainly well coordinated.

Then again, he might have spoken too soon.

One dwarf, the same bowl-haired one, threw a fork far too low and ended up bouncing off the table and went flying directly at Bilbo. With his hobbit eyes he was unable to spot the flying projectile before it hit him square on his head. The force, he admitted, was really harsh. If he had been an ordinary hobbit the fork would have most likely been imbedded in his head, but it wasn’t.

Out of reflex Bilbo reached out and placed a hand on the part he was struck. He looked at the fork, frowned and looked back to the one who threw it. The dwarf was, in one word, frightened. He was horrified at what he had done. Off to the side they caught the eyes of two others. One elder looking dwarf with a snow beard braided in a complicated shape and one with a star shape were staring at Bilbo and the young dwarf. In a swift movement they both stood by his side and tried blocking the youngest away from Bilbo’s sight.

Bilbo wanted to grin. Not because of the look the star head was giving him, as if daring him to try something, but because the two oldest were actually trying to stop him. This was something he missed. The fear he could create just by being there. The power he had to decide the fate of others. He craved it.

The sound of someone calling his name snapped him out of it. “Mister Boggins?” It was Kili who called him and only after did Bilbo finally notice all the merriment and sounds in Bag End were gone. All the dwarves were staring at him now. There was a mix of concern and caution on their faces.

“Mister Boggins are you alright?” Kili asked.

When he spotted Gandalf he remembered the semi-promise he made to his friend and with a smile he responded, “Quite alright.”

Kili didn’t look convinced, none of the dwarves did. “But you were struck by the fork. We dwarves throw things pretty harsh.” There was pride in his young voice. “The fork could have caused damaged.”

Bilbo’s grin only grew. “On the contrary it didn’t feel that harsh at all. The fork was as soft as a feather. Guess you dwarves don’t throw things as harsh as you think.” Somewhere in his chest he felt a sadistic joy from seeing Kili’s face fall, but then Gandalf tapped his staff on the floor, taking his fun away. “The table most likely slowed the fork down, though. Unless it was your intent to strike me with full force.”

The bowl-haired dwarf jumped and hid behind the older of the two trying to protect him. It was the oldest that spoke. “No! It was never Ori’s intent. It was all by accident, I assure you.”

Bilbo remembered the name against his will. Now that was five dwarf names he knew and had no purpose with. Hopefully by the upcoming morning he’d forget them. He needed the leader to arrive already and get down to business before something else happened.

Ducking down he picked up the discarded fork and placed it amongst the other dishes stacked together. When he noticed the dwarves still not having moved an inch he looked around. “Are there still dishes around?”

That got some of them moving while others lagged behind, shooting one last look at him. Bilbo maneuvered himself past them all and stood in front of Gandalf.

“That was a bit uncalled for, don’t you think?” Gandalf said.

“Possibly, but at least I played nice.”

Gandalf rolled his eyes and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf is done with your sh*t, Bilbo!


	4. Meet Thorin Oakenshield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is finally here.

The moment finally came when the leader of the dwarven company arrived and Bilbo was _still_ unimpressed.

The king radiated royalty. Just by looking at him Bilbo could see it, and even sense it. The dwarf held himself with authority. Something that had Bilbo itching to take down, but he pushed the feeling away.

The leader was late, extremely late. Bilbo didn’t appreciate those who had him waiting, especially those who decide to ignore him in favor of speaking with someone else first. The leader didn’t bother to acknowledge him and instead greeted Gandalf.  

“Gandalf. I thought you said this place was easy to find. I lost my way, twice.” The leader dwarf said as he walked in.

“Is that so? Can’t imagine how since there is only one road that leads straight here.” Bilbo was irritated and refused to be ignored, especially in his own home.

The leader frowned and finally looked at him. He appeared both insulted and baffled that such a small creature had spoken out. Oh he was in for a surprise.

“So, this is the hobbit.” Leader said.

Bilbo grinned. “This is the hobbit. I’d offer my name but seeing as I don’t know yours yet.”

Gandalf corrected this, taking a bit of Bilbo’s fun away. “Bilbo, this is the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin, this is Bilbo.”

“Baggins,” Bilbo finished, “Bilbo Baggins.”  

Thorin was scowling at him, understanding now that the tone he used was meant to be offensive. It seemed he wanted to return the favor. “He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.”

Bilbo’s grin never faltered. “And you look more like a merchant than a king.”

There were gasps around the dwarves now standing behind Thorin, and this time Gandalf really did have a look of disappointment. Dwalin stepped up and growled at him. “You dare insult our king!”

“On the contrary, _Master Dwalin_ it is your king who insults me!” Bilbo said. “In my own home he insults me. Even after my hospitality to his company he dares insult me. You came here for a reason but I’ll be more than happy to throw you all out if you disrespect me again. Three times it has already occurred. Don’t push your limits.” He finished with a low tone.

Gandalf sighed and shook his head, but otherwise didn’t interrupt Bilbo’s rant. The dwarves in the back were tensely silent. Dwalin was seething and breathing heavily. Thorin stood frozen on the spot. He was trying to understand what exactly was going on and for a moment Bilbo thought he was either going to lash out or simply walk out of Bag End, but it was safe to say Bilbo was surprised when Thorin smiled.

“Our burglar has some fire in him,” He smirked, “Not something we need when we reach Erebor, but it could prove useful on the road. Tell me, Master Baggins do you prefer an axe or sword? Your weapon of choice?”

Gandalf gave Bilbo a look as the question was asked. Bilbo returned it with a grinned and looked to the dwarf king. “I do have some skill at conkers. Good skills if I do say so myself.”

Thorin lost his smile. “Are you mocking me?”

“Of course not, _your majesty_ I’m simply stating the weapon I prefer. Conkers is much more fun than swords or axes. More enjoyment. Though, I wouldn’t use them to kill. They aren’t that reliable. If you tried it, it might take days. And the only reason it would even work is from blood loss. Slow way to go.” He answered in a serious tone.

Thorin didn’t know how to answer back and gave up on the conversation.

“Shall we gather around and get down to business?” Gandalf said and walked back to the table.  The dwarves scattered around followed his lead once Thorin agreed and sat himself. A plate of food was offered to him but he hardly touched anything.

Bilbo leaned on the doorway with his arms crossed and stared, listening to everything that was said. These dwarves weren’t going to be assisted and they were on their own. Their own kin abandoned them and claimed their quest a lost cause. Bilbo was familiar with desertion from his own kin. It stung and left a feeling of loss. He growled at the memory of the old dragons he once called allies. One should never rely on anyone other than themselves. He learned the lesson the hard way, and so were these dwarves. All in due time.

“Is there something you wish to add, Master Baggins?”

Bilbo snapped his attention back to the gathering. All the dwarves and Gandalf were staring at him.

“Not at all,” Bilbo said, “just thinking.”

“A-about what?” Kili dared to ask.

Bilbo hummed and looked up to the ceiling, a smile back on his face. “Just thinking about having those you care about leave you to die.” Eyes still on the ceiling he heard one of the dwarves stand. Their boots scraping the floor trying to get up.

“Are you implying something?” It was Thorin. “Our people would never leave us to die.”

“No they wouldn’t, and yet none of them are here to help you on your quest to reclaim your home back.”

“They won’t help until we obtain the Arkenstone, which is where _you_ come in, _halfling_. Armies will aid us once we have obtained it.”

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Bilbo muttered low enough so none of them heard, “A lot of responsibility on my end, it seems. You wish to steal a jewel form under a dragon’s nose. A task nearly impossible unless you have an expert burglar.”

“And are you?” A dwarf that Bilbo hadn’t learned his name yet asked.

“An expert? Oh no, never stole an item in my life. But I do have this uncanny ability to survive, even in the worst of situations. I have a second chance more than others if something were to go wrong.”

None of them questioned him on this, and unless Thorin were to confess to willingly throwing him to a dragon for a jewel with the possibility of dying if he failed (even though he can’t ever die) he wisely kept his mouth shut on the matter.

“And that is that,” Gandalf said, “Bilbo believes he is not burglar material but I know otherwise. He is perfect for the task and if you are dissatisfied go find yourselves another burglar.” With a final tap of his staff he sat back and dared any of the dwarves to go against him.

None did. Balin pulled something out from his side. “Shall I give him the contract, Thorin?”

Thorin didn’t look too pleased but still said yes. “Give him the contract.”

Bilbo opened the contract when he got it and had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Leave it to dwarves to sign for something that was promised. As if a piece of paper was going to keep him at their side. If Bilbo decided to quit and abandon them no contract was going to stop him.

Pretending to read over the contract he signed it with the quill given and handed it back. Balin checked it over and smiled. “Everything seems to be in order.”

“Good, am I needed for anything else?” Bilbo asked, “no? Then I’ll go ahead and start packing. I have letters to write and heirlooms to put away.”

He had a lot of things to do, the letters being the most important. He understood how hobbit laws worked. He was there when they were first written. Horrible and misfortunate laws they were, but somehow hobbits have lived and survived with them. Inheritance laws were something that caused Bilbo’s blood to boil, especially since he has been fighting against them form the moment he obtained Bag End. Nasty relatives of Belladonna and Bungo, mostly consisting of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins and her husband, were constantly trying to find loop holes in his dear friend’s will. Something about Bag End caught her eye and she desperately wanted it for herself.

Over Bilbo’s dead body.

He knew first hand just how much of a shrew that woman was. The moment she gets her grimy hands on the place she’d sell everything inside and stuff it full of low class furnishing and second aged silverware. The very idea of her owning the place caused his blood to boil. No, he was certainly never going to let that witch woman have the place. Not so long as he lived, and lucky him he couldn’t die.

He wrote the letter, getting to the point that nobody was to inherit the place unless he didn’t return back to the shire in two years, at most. Odds were he was going to survive and come back in one piece. No matter how much he hoped that he wouldn’t. Just in case, however, if he were to die on the quest, even though he probably wasn’t going to, Bag End was to be given to the only relatives that Bilbo found worthy of the place. It was a young relative, soon to be engaged. They were perfect and respectable for Bag End, and the future little ones gave the home a chance to fulfill its purpose. What it was built for from the start, to house an entire family and more.

Yes, if Bilbo was to leave for whatever reason these relatives were to have Bag End under their names. He would not trust anyone else to continue Belladonna’s memory than them. And he knew, somewhere out there, Belladonna was smiling at his choice and approved with all her being.

Letter finished and safely tucked away he went to his room and piled everything he believed he needed for the trip. He didn’t need much, quite honestly, but to play the part he got what most travelers usually carried. That involved bedrolls, blankets, sewing materials, papers, and ink. At least that’s what he thought it involved. He had gotten the ideas from watching other’s traveling packs in the past. They always carried odd materials and he always wondered why they would even need those specific supplies.

Never mind that.

He packed what he thought he needed and planned to put away the silverware and Belladonna’s fine china when he heard it. The soft sound of a low tone, coming from his living room. It was a song. The dwarves were singing, accompanying the leader who was taking over the song. Something in the tone caused Bilbo’s chest to rumble. It was a peaceful rumble, and something that had him calming down. Suddenly feeling sluggish, he pushed himself against the wall in order to remain upright and slowly sank to the floor. His eyes were half-lidded as he stared off at nothing. The rumble in his chest grew and he found his body extremely hard to move. His mind was still working, but barely.

Half-conscious, the only though going through Bilbo’s head was _‘What in the world was happening to him?’_

This was a new development and he couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or bad. It felt like he was dreaming. Never before had he experienced this. It was so soothing that he didn’t want it to end. It was also very restraining as well. Dazed and completely vulnerable he never noticed the song had ended and someone was standing just over him.

“Bilbo?”

Bilbo heard the voice but couldn’t respond right away. It was Gandalf, but for the immortal life of him he couldn’t utter a word or even move a finger. It was as if he was bound by an invisible force.

“Bilbo Baggins you are causing me concern. Stand up or say something before I decided to hide your silverware.”

He managed to blink his eyes and as if cutting off the thread holding him down he could suddenly move his body again. All as if nothing had happened in the first place.

He still felt dazed. “Gandalf? What happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. I found you like this, half-conscious and looking ill. What brought this on?”

“I’m not sure. I just walked out to the hall to put away things when I heard them singing,” Bilbo pointed to the room where the dwarves were still gathered, “I don’t know how but my body just- gave away.” 

Gandalf studied him, “Has this happened before?”

“Never, this is the first time.”

“Curious. Very curious. It seems that events are already happening. Even without your knowledge, my friend.” There was that infuriating twinkle in the old wizards eyes that Bilbo wanted to burn off.

“ _What_ events, Gandalf? What do you already know that I don’t?” Bilbo was slightly irritated.

“I am not certain, but I have an idea. Until I am absolutely sure I won’t add more to the subject. In due time it will all be reveal, and hopefully it will bring out a better side of you, but until then it’s best to keep it quiet for now.”

With narrowed eyes Bilbo said, “You know I despise this side of you. Why can’t you just tell me instead of keeping secrets to yourself? It involves me. I have a right to know. And what is wrong with this side? You don’t like this side of me?”

Gandalf smiled, “Let’s just say that this side of you could use with a bit less spirit and more modesty, but that’s what makes you Bilbo, isn’t it? As for your right to know, well obviously you have a right, but for my well-being and yours we won’t dwell into this any further. Until new progress is met we will keep it between ourselves.”

Bilbo snorted, “As if these dwarves would even understand what is going on.”

“And for your sake I hope they never do,” Gandalf said, gravely.

“What could these dwarves possibility do to me if they ever found out? Let’s be serious here, Gandalf they can’t cause me any harm.” Bilbo stood and dusted himself off. With his body back in control he marched to his original destination.

“Be cautious, Bilbo,” Gandalf said at the retreating form. Bilbo was too far away to properly hear him, but still Gandalf continued, “not all harm is purely physical.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf is such a ball of sunshine, don't cha think?


	5. Walk The Shire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's quick walk in the Shire.

The next morning Bilbo rose up at an ungodly hour. Not because he had important matters to attend to before leaving for the blasted quest he agreed on for the sake of his wizard friend, but because his hobbit body had decided to follow the hobbit cycle of sleep that most hobbits in the Shire followed every day, hobbit. Did he mention hobbit?

For reasons he couldn’t understand hobbits were creatures of early sunrise and early sunsets. Actually there are many things hobbits did that were beyond Bilbo, but one quirk he found most annoying was the early rising. Honestly, who bothered to wake up in these hours? Why were they already awake and who were even bothered to do this?

Hobbits, that’s who.

At least there was one advantage at having a head start. He had the chance to get everything ready ahead of time. His pack was already set and he went ahead and placed it near the front door. He made for the letters and placed them next to a shelf towards the hall leading for the door. He debated whether or not to cook breakfast first and then deliver the letter, or just deliver the letter now and don’t bother with breakfast at all.

Now that he thought about it, he didn’t really have much to make a proper breakfast either way. So delivering the letter it was. A quick change of clothes and he was out the door in a flash. Letter safely in his pocket he walked an all too familiar path for the Thain’s home. It was too early for visits, even for hobbit standards, but Bilbo was working on borrowed time. Who knew when dwarves woke up and decide to just start the journey without a proper departure. Oh no, the Thain will have to understand his rude arrival and hopefully have the decency to forgive.

When Bilbo arrived at the home and was greeted by a well-rounded hobbit with white specks on his hair and tired eyes he was met with unfamiliarity. For a moment he thought he was at the wrong place and almost apologized for the intrusion, but then he remembered that time was a key weakness to those that weren’t him, and that the Thain he _did_ know was already a ripe old age the last time he saw him and had probably met his faith with time’s cruel bite. So alright, this was the new Thain he had heard about announced once and lived in the Old Took’s home. Never bothering to memorize or even ask for the name Bilbo was at a state of hesitance. How to start a conversatioin?

“Yes, good morning. Sorry to interrupt but I needed a word with you… the Thain, correct?” Bilbo’s fingers twitched.

The hobbit blinked his tired eyes multiple times. “I’m the Thain, yes. What is it that you want? Do you know what hour it is?”

“I’m well aware,” Bilbo forced a smile, “it’s just that I have urgent matters to attend to, and well I came to deliver this letter.” Gingerly, he held the letter out for the Thain to take.

“What’s this letter for?” The Thain grabbed the letter and scanned it curiously.

“I’m leaving temporarily, going off to help a couple of folks outside the Shire.”

“You’re leaving?” The Thain’s eyes grew wide. “You can’t possibly be serious. Only a lunatic would willingly go out there.”

“I am very serious and I am no lunatic. The letter is a will in case I don’t come back, which is unlikely. I wrote down who inherits Bag End if by some miracle anything were to happen to me and what specific items go where. I trust the place won’t go immediately out for auction the moment I set foot out of the Shire, and just in case anything was to happen to the letter I have another with a friend to verify my wishes.” Bilbo mentally cheered when the last part caused the Thain to frown a bit. He wasn’t sure exactly _what_ the Thain was frowning about, but just the frowning in general made him feel satisfaction. Knowing he did something right to throw someone off balance was surely the greatest feeling in the world.

“Do you not trust me to keep your wishes?”

“Oh I trust you, good sir. What I don’t trust are nasty relatives of Bungo’s and Belladonna’s to be satisfied and try to find ways against my will. You’ve heard of the event when they first heard who inherited Bag End, correct?”

The Thain snorted, “You must be living under a rock _not_ to have heard what happened.” And it was true. Anyone who didn’t know about the nasty tantrum thrown were either from outside the Shire, or were out in open fields, deep in caves where no gossip could reach. The story was something nearly impossible to forget.

“I heard it was nasty business.” The Thain commented.

“Very nasty business. The Old Took wanted to lock himself away for days during the episode.”

“I can imagine why.”

“Then I leave Bag End for now. I hope it remains in one piece when I return.”

The Thain frowned again. “Are you sure you will return? I mean no offense, of course, but the world out there is dangerous. And the folk around here will never see you the same again.”

Bilbo grinned, “Odds are I am coming back. I came from out there. I’ve traveled the roads across the land and returned in one piece multiple times. I’m a hard hobbit to get rid of.”

“Yes, but why? Why are you even going out there in the first place? Who are these folk that you are helping?”

“Why, the dwarves that arrived here last night. I’m sure the news spread like fire. Surely you heard of their arrival.”

The Thain’s eyes widened again. “The dwarves? You’re helping the dwarves? Why in middle-earth would you do that?”

Bilbo faked a frown, “You mean to tell me that if dwarves were to ask for your help you wouldn’t aid them? What if it was you asking for help from the dwarves? Would you want them to turn their backs and slam the door on your face?”

That shut the Thain up.

“See? Besides, I’m also doing it for a friend. Don’t you worry, I’ll return in one piece. Just watch. I just ask that you follow my letter’s instructions. I should be back after a year. If I don’t return after two then assume something happened to me. I doubt it, but one can’t be too careful. The letter has a more detailed explanation.”

The Thain nodded and tucked the letter safely under his arm. “I will see to it done personally. You know, I’ve always been curious about the hobbit who inherited Bag End, and now I see what the whole gossip was about. You are a mysterious fellow, Mister Bilbo.”

“I have to be in order to get Belladonna’s attention in the first place. I best be going now. If those dwarves aren’t already awake I need to hurry and get their beards up. I thank you, good sir.”

 “Isengrim,” The Thain said, “call me Isengrim.”

Against his will, Bilbo did, “Isengrim it is then. I thank you, Isengrim.” Another name to the list of names he will probably never use again.

“Do be careful on your adventure.”

“I’m always careful.”

Bilbo left Isengrim to his promise but still walked over to his ‘friend’ to leave another copy of the letter in their hands. Even though he said that he trusted the hobbit fellow, he really didn’t. After everything Bilbo had been through the last thing he’d throw freely to anyone was trust. The only one he had trust for was the old wizard, and even then the wizard sometimes pushed his limits. Bilbo trusted that Gandalf wouldn’t abandon or betray him, but the one thing he wouldn’t trust the wizard was keeping a secret or being told a secret.

He really shouldn’t bother asking the wizard for answers anymore, but the interaction was a tradition of sorts between them. Bilbo would question, Gandalf would hint but never reveal, Gandalf finally reveals and Bilbo would just shake his head because whatever secret Gandalf had been keeping was so simple and so easy that it left Bilbo wondering _why_ didn’t _he_ figure it out?  

The only living being in this land and the only one he trusted infuriated him beyond belief. How the mighty truly have fallen.

With a surge of energy to just get this quest started and over with Bilbo quickened his pace and reached the front of Hamfast Gamgee’s home. Oh yes, Bilbo knew this hobbit’s full name. Mostly because Hamfast took care of Belladonna’s garden and still did to this day. Bilbo was a creature of fire and wind. He was basically destruction and death, and even with a body made from the earth he was still death. He had no idea how to raise and take care of life. Flowers would whither from just his finger touching the stems.  

Belladonna’s gardener was still alive and kicking, and as far as Bilbo knew his dear friend trusted him with the garden, and so could he. Who was Bilbo to say otherwise? He knew nothing of caring.

The hobbit fellow earned himself a spot in the few names Bilbo bothered to remember. And if Bilbo was to ever leave Bag End for some reason, like helping a group of dwarves reclaim their homes, for example, Hamfast was the only hobbit he would trust to look after Bag End.

Knocking on the front door, Bilbo plastered his best friendly face for his gardener. He might have looked silly when Hamfast finally answered the door but the hobbit greeted him like any other day.

“Mister Bilbo! What a surprise, what can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry for visiting so early, Hamfast,” Bilbo developed a twinge on his face from smiling, “but I needed to leave this with you before I leave.”

Hamfast gained the same expression the Thain did when he first heard the news. “Oh, you’re leaving?”

“I am. I’m sure you saw a group of dwarves arrive yesterday night. I’m helping them with a small errand and will be away for a couple of months, at most a year.”

“A year?!” Hamfast sputtered.

“A year,” Bilbo repeated with a nod, “this is a letter in case something happens to me during this errand. If I don’t return after two years the letter says who I want Bag End to go to. The Thain already has a letter but I just want to make sure. Can I trust you with this?”

Hamfast puffed his chest out with pride. “Yes, sir you can! Don’t worry, Mister Bilbo I’ll make sure Bag End is taken care of while you’re away and goes to the proper folk you want it to. But you will return unharmed, correct?”

“Of course I am. I’m a hard hobbit to get rid of.” The twinge in his face disappeared for a moment, “do take care of Bag End for me.” Bilbo said, giving Hamfast a key to Bag End.

The pride in Hamfast’s voice was still there, “You can count on me, Mister Bilbo.”

“Farewell. I’ll be back in a year in a half, at most.”

“Do be careful, Mister Bilbo.” Hamfast said at Bilbo’s retreating form, but Bilbo was already a distance away and unable to hear him.

 

~~

 

When Bilbo returned to Bag End he was satisfied to see the dwarves already up, but he was also surprised. Not because the dwarves were up and moving, but because Bag End was… nearly spotless. All the mess they made was completely cleaned up. No traces of mud, no dirty dishes. They looked exactly the way they did before the flies arrived.

Bilbo was about to say something genuine about the dwarves but thought better of it when he spotted the youngest of the lot roughly handling the doilies. “What are you doing?”

The three jumped and nearly fell on each other trying to turn around. The bowl-cut hid behind the two ‘ilis while the blond ‘ili dropped a doily trying to back away and collided with the other ‘ili. Bilbo managed to catch it as it fell and carefully folded it, placing it on a shelf and away from their dirt covered fingers. 

“Sorry!” dark-haired ‘ili said with a bit of panic.

Bilbo rattled his head and tried remembering the names of the two dwarves. Only being introduced to five you’d think he’d remember, but apparently he detested them so much that their names really were forgotten overnight. He had the rest of the names at least. That was something, right?

“What were you three trying to do?”  Bilbo gave them a stern stare.

“We were trying to tidy up!” Said the blond ‘ili, “you fed us even after making a mess of your place. We were just trying to make up for it.”

Ah. The sentiment almost made up for making the mess in the first place, almost. “Well thank you, lad. That was a kind thought. But for future reference, handle these with care.” Bilbo walked away without another word.

He went and retrieved the sign he had worked on just before heading for bed the night before and walked back outside with nails and a hammer. He snatched his pack just before walking through the door. On the fence he pinned the sign that said _‘Unavailable. Currently traveling through the land outside of The Shire. Bag End is left in the care of Hamfast Gamgee during my absence.’_

Satisfied, Bilbo took steps back and looked over the sign, the fence, the bench and Bag End itself. He absorbed the sight and tried his best to engrave it in his head.

“You will surely be missed.” Bilbo patted the fence. “I’ll be back. Don’t you worry.”


	6. Meet Ori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey finally starts and the first dwarf friend (kind of) is made.

The time finally came. The adventure was to start and the first step to complete the quest was taken. Now, if only Bilbo could get the pony given to him to stop skittering away from his touches _then_ the adventure could truly start.

The bad combination of hunter and prey was making the first portion of the journey a hassle, and they haven’t even left the borders of the Shire yet. The four leg beast absolutely refused to be touched by him. Even after being handed over by the bald dwarf the pony bolted the moment it was free. Two dwarves managed to recapture it and tried giving it back to Bilbo. This time Bilbo grabbed hold of the reins to avoid the same run for the hills happening again.

The pony pulled every step they took, trying desperately to keep a distance from him with a surprising amount of force. Bilbo managed to hold on with determination until the pony got it in its head he wouldn’t let go any time soon, and after a while they developed an understanding of space. So long as the pony was as far away as the reins let it, it wouldn’t struggle or try to make a break for it.

With no other choice Bilbo walked on foot. He didn’t mind. The journeys he made with Gandalf usually had them both walking, or at least pulled by a cart with the horses a safe distance away from him. The bad thing he was starting to get irritated by from walking was the fact that he was all the way in the back of the line. In the journeys he had partaken in he was always in the front of the groups. If it was just he and Gandalf they would walk side by side if walking and sit next to each other if sitting. They were equals.

Being in the back of the line suggested he was just a follower and not as important as those on the front. The thought made Bilbo chuckle. “Oh, that was the last thing I am.”

He was now a fair distance in the back so none of the dwarves even heard him say this, but a certain four -legged pack mule did and whinnied, trying to pull and start the battle all over again.

Bilbo pulled back, “Will you stop it, you blasted creature! If I’d wanted to hurt you don’t you think I’d have done it by now?”

The pony snorted but still tried fighting.

Having had enough Bilbo loosened his hold, “Fine, you wish to run? Go then, run into the trees and hide among the bushes. I’m sure the wolves out there will be happy for an easy meal.” He muttered and had the most peculiar reaction from the creature. Instead of running and hiding like Bilbo had said the pony only stood still and looked to be studying him.

“Well? Aren’t you going to run?” Bilbo tried again, irritated by the mix messages the thing was sending, “bushes are over there.”

The pony lowered its head and almost had the look of an injured animal having been just kicked. Bilbo rolled his eyes. Two legs or four, it mattered not. All of them were fools and it made him itch to lash out. “If you’re not going will you stop trying to fight me? Look, the rest are leaving without us and it’ll be just us two against the night. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

The pony neighed and took one cautious step forward. Taking it as a sign Bilbo gripped the reigns and began walking again. They picked up the pace together to reach the company. The pony still stayed as far away as the reigns allowed it. When they managed to catch up they slowed down and took more decent steps to both catch their breath and avoid being left behind again. None of the dwarves even noticed their absence, but a certain wizard did.

Gandalf maneuvered his horse to walk besides Bilbo. “Have you two managed to make an agreement?”

Bilbo didn’t even bother to look at him, or answer.

“Am I safe to say that you wish for solitude and I am both intruding and causing you annoyance?” Gandalf teased.

“It’s like you know me so well, Gandalf. How is that even possible?” Bilbo sarcastically bit. All in good fun, though.

“My, my you’re usually more lively at the start of these journeys. Whatever has you in a foul mood?” From the tone the wizard used Bilbo could tell he wasn’t actually meaning the questions. They were more for trying to get a response from him than anything. A conversation started.

“Can you fault me? It’s been many years since the last time I journeyed anywhere. On top of that you kind of threw this on me in one night.”

“You’ve had a night to think it over. I’ve taken you out before from just hours after telling you. If anything I was more than generous this time around.”

“That’s what you call generous? Can’t imagine what kindness is coming from you.” Bilbo shook his head and tried to quicken his pace. Maybe he could use the dwarves to block the wizard from him.

“You know exactly what kindness is from me. Why, remember when we traveled south to a village full of men and curious children that have never seen a hobbit before? Tell me, who exactly helped keep them at bay?”

“Certainly not you,” Bilbo snapped, “if anything you left me to their grabby hands. I almost gained a bald spot from those mongrels pulling my hair. And where were you through the whole episode? That’s right! You were toasting wine with the lords inside their long house!”

“I did help in removing them. At one point.” Gandalf said with mirth.

“Yeah, when we finally left the place three days later!” Bilbo ran a hand across his hair from the memories of dozens of hands yanking and pulling non-stop.

“Most kind of me,” Gandalf simply said, earning a growl from Bilbo that triggered him to laugh. “At least they were children. Do you remember Gondor during the festival?”

“Don’t!” Bilbo shouted, “don’t even go there! You promised never to speak of that again.”

Gandalf’s face was half covered in hair thanks to his grand beard but even with all the fuzz Bilbo could still see the old coot smirking.

“What happened during the festival?” A dwarf suddenly asked and Bilbo finally noticed that the entire company had been silent throughout his conversation with Gandalf. Eavesdropping, no doubt. The dwarf who spoke was the hat-wearing one. When he realized what he had done he ducked and tried to hide under his hat when Bilbo shot him a stare.

“Nothing happened.” Bilbo repeated but Gandalf ignored him in favor of embarrassing him.

“Our dear Bilbo here had the misfortune of running into characters who were under the influence of ale. These men believed Bilbo to be a child because of his height and spent the night trying to help him find his _‘mother.’_ Of course Bilbo set them straight with a nasty bruise or three.” The smirk was back and it took everything in Bilbo not to purposely spook the horse and send Gandalf running. The horse was already nervous from just walking near him. If he were to suddenly raise a hand the horse would jump five feet in the air. That would be a sight.

Some of the dwarves dared to chuckle at the story while those who remembered who exactly they were dealing with kept straight as possible. The dark-haired ‘ili was twitching and nervously made quick glances to Bilbo and Gandalf before looking forward again. It wasn’t until the wizard finally asked him what was on his mind that the dwarf gained courage and said, “You really traveled that far south? To Gondor?” He looked amazed from the thought that they had traveled all the way there.

“That we did, my lad.” Gandalf answered as Bilbo continued to walk, ignoring the curious looks some dwarves were sending them. “Bilbo here has traveled with me nearly everywhere I have visited. He does not travel as much, but he should be a bit familiar.”

Dark-haired ‘ili looked amazed, and Bilbo was about to ask him for his name again because he had grown tired from calling him dark-haired ‘ili in his mind when Gandalf continued. “Of course I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already forgotten the path to Gondor.”

“Forgotten? Why you old hatter,” Bilbo said, “I have better memory than you, and better sense of direction. If you had taken the lead everywhere we went it would have taken us twice as long to get anywhere.”

“He jests, of course.” Gandalf quickly reassured them all.

Bilbo ignored him in favor of rolling his eyes and stopping the conversation once and for all. When it was finally quiet he noticed how all the dwarves were now closer to them. They had slowed down their ponies to give Bilbo a chance to stick around. If done on purpose or unintentionally he didn’t know, but now he finally understood what Gandalf had been doing all along. The old wizard was trying to show the social and kind side he was most familiar with in Bilbo. He was given them a short cut.

It took years for Bilbo to even have discovered this lively side of him and even more for Gandalf to have seen it firsthand. It only ever happened to those Bilbo had deemed worthy and so far only two have had the honor of it. Gandalf himself and Belladonna. To think the wizard was trying to show the dwarves that there was another side of him. What was the old fool trying to get at?

Another thing he found was the pony he was given had actually inched closer to him. It wasn’t as terrified as before but still kept a distance. It seemed the dwarves weren’t the only ones getting the short cut to his good side.

For the rest of the walk until nightfall Gandalf continued to bring out what he thought was the best in Bilbo. Trying his hardest to get an honest response and show the others he wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be. Bilbo refused to show it without a fight. He often ignored the attempts and only gave short answers. Slowly but surely Gandalf’s gossip began to decrease and the dwarves were gaining a distance again, giving Bilbo the silence to think of anything and everything he spotted. The sights and sounds brought memories of past journeys that he admits were fun and entertaining, but the thing was he didn’t want to speak of them in front of strangers. These dwarves haven’t earned the right to know of his feats.

The king of the dwarves, much like Gandalf, didn’t have proper sense of direction either. But at least the wizard could tell east from west, north from south. Thorin couldn’t even do that, apparently. With him leading the walk out of the Shire, heading for the bridge and finally arriving in Bree took five more hours than necessary. And, even though Bilbo can’t get injured, that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel pain, and having walked the entire way, he was certainly feeling a lot of pain in his feet.

They rented rooms in the Prancing Pony. An inn, one of many, Bilbo couldn’t tolerate. It smelled awful and was too loud and the folk drinking in the place were unsavory. Thankfully, the place was nearly empty save for five late drinkers who simply refused to leave. The dwarves split in groups of twos and threes and went for their rooms. Bilbo ended up getting stuck with Gandalf because they were the most acquainted with each other while the dwarves were all made up of families and therefore refused to separate. It was both a good choice and bad. Good because Bilbo would have denied entering the room if he was stuck with any of the dwarves. And bad because, while he loved Gandalf as a friend, the man was the worst roommate one could get. He could keep even the Stone Giants up with his ridiculously loud snoring.

Bilbo was not getting any sleep tonight.

Accepting his fate he decided to go and sit in the bar, _not_ drink because he could never understand the enjoyment of drinking that disgusting liquid most races seemed to enjoy, and just think until sleep forced him to return to the rooms. Give him a chance to get knocked out the moment he touched the bed. He only hoped he was so lucky.

Picking an empty table near a window he sat and tried to relax. The late drinkers were reduced to three now, but still made loud noises and kicked and stomped on the floor for no apparent reason. Bilbo managed nearly a whole hour before they got to his nerves and, even though he had just spent a whole day walking, decided to take a small walk just outside the inn.

Outside, the place was free of any wondering bodies. Not a boot or coat within sight. Bilbo enjoyed that. He went ahead further then what he planned and walked to a corner that had a section of stores and houses. He would have made for the other corner but voices from behind stopped his tracks. The voices were positively male, gruff and very much drunk.

“Oi, what’s a small thin’ like you doin’ here in Bree? Not here to rub us blin’, are ya?”

Looking for the source Bilbo found two men surrounding one of the members of the Thorin’s company. It was one of the young ones. Bowl-cut. The lad was clutching his mitten-covered hands to his chest and looked at the men in fright.

Two things baffled Bilbo from the sight. One, why was the dwarf separated from the two other dwarves that seemed very protective of him, and two, why was the dwarf even out here in the first place? Shops were closed and the only thing out and about was drunken folk who were kicked out because they’ve had enough. And as a prime example, the dwarf was now suffering from the latter.

One man grabbed his shoulder roughly and began shaking him. The dwarf tried pulling away but the other man decided to join the fun and grabbed the other shoulder. Bowl-cut was now beyond terrified. He whipped his head between his two assaulters and tried to kick for freedom. The men thought it hilarious to lift bowl-cut from the ground and have him dangling in the air. Bowl-cut clearly didn’t find this amusing and was almost near tears.

Bilbo sighed, scratched his head and slowly walked to the three. He cleared his throat to get their attention. “Excuse me, do you mind?”

One man had apparently lost his intelligence with all the ale. “Do we min’ what? What are you excusin’ yourself from? We haven’t done anything’!”

Bilbo gritted his teeth. Clearly they haven’t. Bowl-cut was now looking at him in desperation. “I’m just going to say this once. Let go of the dwarf and go make fools of yourselves somewhere else.”

“What did ya say?” One man let go of bowl-cut’s shoulder and bowl-cut squeaked when he landed and tumbled on the ground.

Bilbo grinned when the man took steps closer to him and tried using his height as intimidation. Oh they never learn. “Didn’t I say I was only going to say it once? The race of men are truly beyond hope.”

The man retaliated and tried kicking Bilbo, but what the man didn’t know was that during the festival in Gondor, Bilbo had taken on and bruised a total of nine drunken men. This one wasn’t even going to make him break a sweat. He side-stepped the attack and made for a kick of his own, hitting the leg being used for balance and knocking the man on his back. Bilbo laughed when the man started to flail like a fish out of water. Oh, what a wondrous sight indeed.

The second man jumped to attack him. Not having learned from watching his friend fail Bilbo took a step back as the man tried grabbing for him and stuck out a foot for the man to trip on. There was a bit of grace from the fall but the landing could have been better. Bilbo huffed at the sight the two made and made for bowl-cut, who was still on the ground and was looking at Bilbo like a hero.

Bilbo only looked at him as a burden with his arms crossed. “Mind me asking what you’re doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with the others?”

Bowl-cut quickly stood, fumbling and tripping over his own feet before saying, “Y-yes! But I followed you out here.”

“You did?” Bilbo looked at him suspiciously.

“Not for anything bad, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened in your home!” Bowl-cut quickly said and tried hiding his lower face with his scarf.

“Sorry for what happened-?” And then Bilbo remembered. The dwarf was talking about the fork incident. Bilbo had forgotten about it. Sweet for the dwarf to still remember. “Forget about it. It was an accident, right?”

“Yes!” Bowl-cut squeaked, “I never meant to hurt you or anything. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Then all is forgiven. I didn’t even feel a thing. Come on, we best head back now before they find you missing.”

Bowl-cut agreed eagerly and followed after Bilbo back to the inn. He twiddled his fingers nervously before finally saying, “Thank you for helping me.”

Bilbo didn’t look at him. “Next time try to find me during the day if you want to apologize.”

“I-I will! Next time… Ori.”

Bilbo turned, “What?” and noticed bowl-cut now had color across his cheeks.

“My name, Ori. I never properly introduced myself when we first met. Or my brothers, Dori and Nori.”

Ah, so the two protective dwarves were his brothers. Made sense. It was better than what Bilbo had originally thought. He could never tell male from females with dwarves on sight. It had to be by smell, and since he didn’t have his dragon nose he couldn’t exactly tell until their voices revealed it. Over the years he had gained the ability to tell the genders with just the voices. He sometimes got them wrong still, but it wasn’t like he was ever going to see them again anyways.

The two protective dwarves weren’t bow- _Ori_ ’s mother and father. They were his brothers, that were now named Dori and Nori.

Why were all their names so similar? Couldn’t they have been a bit more creative? Honestly, he couldn’t even bother to remember Fili’s and Kili’s.

Wait.

He just did.

Growling in irritation at the headache these dwarves were causing him Bilbo ran a hand over his face.

“Master Baggins?” Bowl-cut now named Ori asked, cautiously.

“Pardon, it’s just that you dwarves and your names always manage to make my head spin.”

Ori smiled at him. “I understand. You get used to it over time. It makes it easy to remember, but harder to tell who exactly gets the name.”

“I bet,” Reaching the hall with the rooms Bilbo motioned for Ori to get a move on, “we best get to bed now.”

“Good night, Master Baggins.” Ori said.

Bilbo nodded, “Good night, Master Ori.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be mistakes when it comes to titles and other things. They are done on purpose so please don't go all on a rampage about it. (In case inaccuracy gets on your bad side)
> 
> Thank you so much for the lovely comments and I hope I still have your attention. All chapters are somewhat short, depending on what happens in them. But there are a lot of them. On every chapter Bilbo is slowly letting loose and opening up, so keep an eye out for those! Sometimes they're big obvious things, sometimes they are the smallest of touches. Stay focused and find them all~!
> 
> Also, all mistakes are mine!


	7. The Pony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some dragon perks that are still there, and Bilbo makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>    
> Art by Demonatic/thehobbitpanda  
> [Link](http://thehobbitpanda.tumblr.com/post/92690743886/a-drawing-based-on-nafertys-fanfiction-setting)
> 
>  
> 
> Basically what I was going to describe Bilbo's dragon form later on but lovely Demonatic beat me to the punch so here's a beautiful image of it~!

Bilbo was, not surprisingly, the first to wake up the next morning. He managed to get a few hours of sleep in-between Gandalf’s unnatural snoring and even avoided strangling the wizard. So far so good!

For breakfast he ordered a strange looking soup. His mind wanted to protest eating it but his stomach had other ideas. Yesterday he pressed his luck only eating two apples on the road and one actual meal before bed in the Inn. Now his stomach was retaliating and wasn’t going to stop until food was given.

Such an odd thing, his curse. He can’t get injured and yet he can still feel pain, so long as the pain comes from inside, not outside. He had tried dying of starvation. He wasn’t a pretty sight at the end. All he had was muscle by the end of the attempt and seeing how hobbits gained their _lovely_ body from fat, his muscle hardly did his body sight justice. There were barely any muscles at all. He was the image of skin and bones, but still his body refused to give.

Back to his breakfast, he ate it with speed and was left with nothing to do but lounge around for the dwarves and Gandalf to wake up and get the day started. He was impatient on this part. With nothing to keep him occupied his mind wandered around to his environment, the men standing in the environment, the lowly men already _drinking_ in the environment, the dwarves that were still sleeping and refused to show up, and the thought of just breaking through the doors and pulling them on their feet by the ears.

Alright, so Bilbo was a bit irritated from waiting until the rest of his traveling companions arrived. If it was just him making this journey he would probably be halfway there by now and could reclaim this mountain with one arm tied behind his back.

When some of the dwarves finally did show up Bilbo refused to speak or even acknowledge them. He was sitting on a table located near a corner that hid the rest of the Inn and its costumers. More dwarves appeared after a while but it still wasn’t all of them. Gandalf was with the second group and sat himself down across from Bilbo.

The hobbit’s irritation was shown in his glare. When he looked at Gandalf the glare was still in place, but the wizard was all too used to it and was unaffected.

“Good morning,” Gandalf said with merriment.

Suddenly, a mischievous side rose up in Bilbo, “What do you mean?” he looked at his friend with confusion, “Do you mean to wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning! ”

Gandalf raised an eyebrow but Bilbo wasn’t done, “Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?” 

“As you once put it, all of them at once, I suppose.” Gandalf chuckled.

Bilbo smiled and shook his head. Leaning back, he finally turned to see how many of the dwarves were present and cheered when he counted them all. “Finally we can get this day started already.”

“Eager, aren’t we?” Gandalf said as he bit into his slice of bread.

“Eager to get this over with.”

“Well as many would say, patience is a virtue and it might do you good to learn it.”

“This coming from you? The wizard who told me to do grand things right now instead of waiting and watching the world around me go by?”  Bilbo tapped his finger on the table and gave a quick glance to the company. Half of them were now done with their meals and were conversing. The others were only a few bites away from finishing.

“Waiting for nothing doesn’t make it patience.” Gandalf pointed out.

“No, but they both involve waiting still.” Bilbo countered.

“Sometimes you are insufferable, Bilbo Baggins.” There were only three dwarves left to finish.

“Then we understand each other now.”

Gandalf thought it over, “Fair enough.”

The company was now finished and made their way out the door. Thorin handed over gold to the owner before following after them. He stopped just before passing the door and looked back, facing Bilbo and Gandalf. “Come on wizard, halfling. We’re leaving.”

They both ignored his use of wordings. “Charming, isn’t he?” Bilbo muttered.

“Quite so,” Gandalf stood, “let’s get this day started then.”

Bilbo couldn’t agree more.

Leaving Bree was just the same as leaving the Shire. The dwarves settled into a line again and Bilbo got stuck walking with the pony a reigns away, again. At least the pony wasn’t trying to make a break for it like last time. It was actually a few inches closer than yesterday with an arm’s length space between Bilbo and it. Bilbo was still walking though, so he couldn’t say it was much of an improvement.

Gandalf wasn’t with him this time. He had taken up the front with the king, trying to help in leading but the king’s stubbornness made it extremely difficult. The dwarves ignored Bilbo for the most part. He was all the way in the back so it wasn’t that hard to. He enjoyed the solitude for a time and even started humming to himself, but a curious set of eyes were watching him and  keen on disturb his seclusion from the group.

One pony and its rider slowed down to walk next to him. This action gained many surprised looks from the dwarves who witnessed it and from Bilbo himself. He looked at the frightened animal being forced to stand so near and then looked at the rider who was brave enough to do it and yet was nervously toying with the reigns.

The rider was ‘not anymore bowl-cut’ Ori. He tried smiling at Bilbo and forced himself to keep it on when Bilbo didn’t return it. “P-pardon me, Master Baggins but do you mind me asking why you aren’t riding your pony?”

Bilbo looked forward again and continued walking, “This pony and I still haven’t formed an agreement yet. Can’t exactly ride an animal who doesn’t want to be ridden.” He said like it was something everyone should have known.

To his side the pony snorted.

“But the ponies have been trained. You should be able to get on one without trouble.”

Bilbo sighed. He really didn’t want to explain this without revealing too much. Just thinking of explaining it was getting to his nerves. “I should be able to, but I’m not. This pony doesn’t want to be ridden by me and I’m not going to force it to. Tell me, would you be happy if someone was trying to force you into doing something you don’t like?”

A look of understanding crossed Ori’s face, “No I wouldn’t,” and he looked down at his own pony in a new light.

The dwarves that were close enough to listen in also looked down at their ponies, even the two protective brothers of Ori who were the closest. Bilbo watched the oldest raise his head again and give him a stare before quickly facing forward.

Bilbo thought it the end of the conversation but Ori had other ideas, “I never thought of it that way. You really care about the animals, don’t you?”

When Bilbo didn’t answer Ori decided he pushed his boundaries enough and quickly hurried his pony next to his brothers. Bilbo wanted to say he ignored the question because it was a stupid question to have asked him in the first place, but the reality of it was he didn’t know _how_ to answer. As a dragon he saw anything smaller then him as prey, but as a hobbit, well, he still saw them as prey. At least for the first few years since the curse.

There was a perk to being a dragon, and even transformed into a hobbit the perk was still present. A perk that involved him speaking with those the two-legged races tended to ignore.

As a hobbit he couldn’t go out on a killing spree as often. And the whole point of the curse was to stop him, so he had to keep himself restraint. By doing this he witnessed how both animals and two-legged races lived and survived. He saw them as equals because they were both trying to accomplish the same thing.

Animals were just the same as men, elves, dwarves and hobbits. Bilbo had come to care for two, a hobbit and a man (well, Gandalf looks like a man, even though it’s not entirely true, but Bilbo had first thought him one, and still does today) which meant he could care for others if he wanted to. If animals were equals, did that meant he could come to care for them as well?

Maybe Bilbo was just thinking into it too much.

Possibly, so instead he the thought and focused on the road.

No dwarves attempted to converse with him and Gandalf never bothered to ride back to keep him company. Bilbo didn’t mind. Gandalf was usually like this when they traveled with groups. Bilbo didn’t care for those that joined them, but Gandalf did. He’d spend most of his time trying to reassure and keep an eye out for danger. If a fight were to happen then that was when Bilbo participated, but other than that he mostly kept to himself.

When nighttime fell upon them the king finally decided to make camp. He barked orders and made dwarves take on roles to try and speed things up. He didn’t give Bilbo a single order, and that was a good thing. The king lived to fight another day.

Having nothing to do and really not in the mood to look at dwarves working Bilbo wandered away, snatching two apples as he passed the bag filled with them. They were camping on a cliff-like spot. The ground suddenly disappeared, forming a drop on the side. He walked near the edge and just stood, watching the moon rise and taking a bite on his first apple.

Behind him he heard the company talk and shout. Some ordering others to move and others asking some for help. The noises were a distance away and so were muffled, but something closer covered them up without struggle. There was a soft noise of grass being stepped on and crushed, followed by a soft voice that radiated caution. “You are a strange creature, dragon.”

Spinning his head almost to the point of causing whiplash, Bilbo came upon the sight of only ponies huddled together like pigs inside a pen, but one pony was facing him directly and was separated completely from the cluster. It was his own pony.

Bilbo scowled at it, “So you finally decide to speak to me,” he turned and looked back over the drop of land.

“Tell me then, why do you look like that, dragon?” From the sound of its voice Bilbo guessed it was a female pony. He could have been wrong, though.

“It wasn’t by choice, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The pony snorted, “Clearly. I couldn’t imagine dragons wanting to turn into what you are. You appear of a strange mix.”

“Hobbits,” Bilbo informed, “I am a hobbit, dear pony. I’m not a mix of anything. Hobbits all look like this.”

There was silence that followed, and for a moment Bilbo though it to be the end of their first conversation, but the pony continued, “Why do you behave as such?”

“Do you wish me to behave another way?”

“I always thought dragons to kill everything in sight. You are made of fire and wind, are you not?”

Bilbo looked back at the pony, “In case you haven’t noticed I’m not exactly a dragon anymore.”

“You don’t look like one, but you smell of fire,” The pony shook her head, “you smell of fire and grass.”

“I- what?” Bilbo frowned, “of fire and grass? You are mistaken.”

The pony stomped her foot, “I am not. I have smelled fire before. From the fierce and destructive to the warm and calm. I have smelled many kinds of fires. You smell of a fierce and warm fire that is mixed with the tenderness of grass.”

“Your nose is wrong on all accounts. I have lost my fire long ago, and the grass you smell is all around us. Your nose is placing things where they aren’t.” Bilbo growled.

“My nose is not wrong. All of us smell it.” The pony said as the rest of her kin raised their heads and looked at him curiously.

Bilbo glared at all of them, “All of you are wrong,” and sharply turned his head back over the drop. Suddenly feeling tired and fed up he sat on the edge and had his legs dangling. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and even grabbed a small pebble to fling it over the horizon.

The sounds of steps came close and on his side a pony’s head poked out hovered near him. Bilbo rolled his eyes at the creature, “You know it’s dangerous for a pony to stand so near an edge.”

“As it is for you,” the pony fought back.

“Tell me then, why the sudden courage? I would think as a dragon you’d want to be as far away from me as possible.”

The pony nodded, “I did.”

“What made you change your mind?”

The pony’s ears flickered as she thought, “The first thing was when you released my reigns. When you commented on the wolves,” she informed and earned an ‘Ah’ from Bilbo, “you were the first one to ever do that. No dwarf ever released their hold when I tried fighting back.”

Bilbo got what she meant, “I take it some dwarves wanted you to do things you didn’t?”

“Dwarves live in mountains, dragon. We ponies prefer land where the possibility of drops is little.”

“Fair enough, continue.”

“You defended our rights,” Bilbo was about to argue that never once did he defend anyone when the pony continued, “When the dwarf explained that we were trained to willingly allow anyone on our backs you fought back. You placed them in our situation and made them realize we have thoughts and feelings too.”

“Well, yes,” Bilbo agreed, “did you want me to forcibly get on your back? It was either that or talk sense to Ori.” _Plus I didn’t want to explain everything without giving me away._ He thought but kept it to himself.

“You could have ridden on my back and I might have allowed it,” The pony confessed, “but instead you defended me.”

“Might have allowed it? Did you really change your opinion on me that fast?” Bilbo shook his head at the idea, “If you wish to call it defending your rights then by all means. Don’t expect many of them.”

The pony turned to study him, “You are a strange creature, dragon.”

“You’ve said that before already, and I do have a name. It’s Bilbo. Try using it some time.”

“I’d offer a name but I was never given one,” The pony revealed.

Bilbo frowned at the new information. No name? Not even by her parents or the dwarves? No creature should go without one. “We can’t have that now, can we? How about… Myrtle?” The name Belladonna had given to her own pony came to mind. What better way to honor them both?

“Myrtle,” The pony tested, “Myrtle. I like it.”

Bilbo smiled, “Then Myrtle it is.” Remembering he still had another apple he offered it to her.

She eagerly accepted it, “Thank you, Bilbo.”

“You’re quite welcome, Myrtle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have the time please tell me what you thought of the chapter. What parts did you like and what could have been better?


	8. Defending A Dwarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo defends someone else without meaning to, and more bonding.

Bilbo discovered something on that night. He preferred the company of a pony more than the company of dwarves. Of course Myrtle hardly said a word after being given her name, but she remained by his side. Together they finished their apples and just stared at the moon rising over their heads. The quiet between them he enjoyed, but it couldn’t last forever.

One dwarf, who was apparently preparing the food, announced it was done and called everyone back. Bilbo really didn’t want to see any of them but Gandalf would never allow it and would probably use Belladonna to prove another point to him. In order to avoid that from happening he forced himself up and walked to the camp. There was a fire in the center cooking whatever meal the fat dwarf had made. It seemed fitting for the biggest dwarf to be the chef. Bigger usually meant more love for food. And more love for food meant the desire to know how to make proper food whenever they wanted.

Bilbo wouldn’t know much about that. His hobbit body loved food but that didn’t prompt him to learn how to cook every kind of food there was. He learned the basics and survived on that. Simple as that.

The fire in the center caught his eye the moment he returned to the group. It brought back memories of what once was and what could be. He wanted to sit near it and bask in the bright and intense flames, but because of the food on top of it all the dwarves were circling around. Deciding against it he searched for a spot farthest away from the gathering and sat down. He looked to where he left Myrtle and the other ponies, making his left side face the dwarves and quietly stared at nothing. 

The dwarves were muttering and moving around. The sounds of wood smacking against more wood as they served themselves filled the night air. On occasion the wooden spoon smacked against the metal pot the fat dwarf used to cook, making Bilbo’s ears twitch at the high sound it created. Trying to ignore them the best he could, Bilbo failed to notice the youngest dwarf cautiously make his way towards him. He took small steps as if trying to avoid scaring away a skittish creature. It was only when he quietly said, “Master Baggins?” did Bilbo realize he was there.

Ori was standing near him and had two bowls of strange looking soup in his hands. Bilbo didn’t answer back but he acknowledged he was there.

“Master Baggins I brought you soup if you’re hungry.” Ori held out one hand with a bowl carefully. Both trying to avoid dropping it and trying to force himself from shaking.

Bilbo looked at the bowl and then at the dwarf.  The youngster looked both determined and afraid. Bilbo almost felt sorry for the poor creature. Stopping himself from rolling his eyes he accepted the bowl offered and smiled, “I thank you, Ori. Most sweet of you.”

Color appeared on Ori’s face and the smile he returned was too bright for Bilbo’s eyes. “Would you like to sit with me near the fire? It’s warmer.” He gestured to the flames where the dwarves were sitting in a circle around it. Ori’s brothers were looking their way while Gandalf was shooting a pointed look to Bilbo.

Bilbo’s lips twitched at the question. He wanted to tell the dwarf no. Did the dwarf believe him lonely or something? His invitation was basically an attempt for Bilbo to join in the circle of socializing with the rest of the company. Bilbo wanted to say he was avoiding the dwarves not because he thought the dwarves didn’t want _him_ near, but because _he_ didn’t want to see them. He thought better of it and kept his mouth shut.

Forcing his smile to stay on, he nodded, “Sure, I’d like that,” and followed Ori closer to the fire. He wisely kept himself away from the protective brothers and avoided eye contact with anyone. Looking at the flames he ate the strange soup and ignored the tension he made from arriving. He could tell the dwarves felt awkward by him just sitting so close, but he didn’t care.

A howl echoed in the night, making his ears perk up and Ori to jump a bit on his side. “W-what was that?” He asked.

“Orcs,” Kili said and Bilbo could see the mischief circling in his eyes.

“Orcs?” Ori repeated as his oldest brother rested a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him.

“Throat cutters,” Fili said this time. The same mischief showing in his own eyes, “there’d be dozens of them out there.”

“They strike, in the wee small hours when everyone’s asleep. Quick and quiet. You won’t even know what struck you.”

Ori moved closer to his brother, or actually more like he was forced closer to his brother. The oldest (Bilbo still hadn’t figure out who was Dori and Nori) wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him. Somehow the two ‘ilis found something hilarious about it and began laughing.

Bilbo narrowed his eyes, “Don’t be daft. You’d have to be deaf if an orc managed to sneak up on you. Orcs know nothing about stealth and favor watching you scream in agony then cut your throat while you slept,” The two ‘ilis grew quiet and looked at him in surprise.

“If an orc manages to slit your throat while you two sleep then remember you brought it upon yourselves.” Bilbo gained satisfaction when both of their faces gained a pale color. Fear was always a good way to get a lesson engraved in someone’s head. No matter how thick.

From the side another voice spoke, “And you know of these things, Master Baggins?” It was Thorin, and he didn’t look at all pleased that Bilbo had spoken out.

Bilbo wasn’t about to bend over, “I know firsthand of these things, Master Oakenshield.”

“How does a _halfling_ come to such knowledge? I thought your race was about gardening and homely homes. Never once looking to the outside world.”

“If that’s the case then what am I doing here? Certainly not out looking for gardening tools or another home. I’ve run into orcs on my journeys before. I’ve fought in battles and witnessed the bloodshed.” Bilbo looked away from him and returned to his soup.

“Do not look away while I speak to you,” Thorin barked.

“Then do not disrespect me and I might treat you like you wish to be treated,” Bilbo calmly said.

“You have brought ill fate to my nephews and my company with your words!”

Ah, so that was why the king was so angered that Bilbo had spoken in such a manner to them. The two dwarves were both his nephews, meaning they were princes and thus were used to behaving the way they did and getting away with it. Not on Bilbo’s watch.

“You are mistaken if you believe I have brought an ill fate to your nephews or your company. They have brought the fate themselves. They shouldn’t make fun of something that has a high chance of happening just to frighten one of their companions, especially the youngest.” He narrows his eyes at them. They had their heads down in shame at Bilbo’s ranting.

He looked back at the king, “And if you allow such a thing to happen I question your actions.”

The king was furious by the end and if looks could kill, well Bilbo would have been dead on the spot. If only. “Are you implying something, _halfling_?”

“I’m not implying anything, _dwarf_.”

“Enough, both of you!” Gandalf said as he stood between them. “No ill fate will befall on anyone but if you continue I’ll personally make sure it happens to you both!”

Thorin wisely kept his mouth shut while Bilbo frowned at the wizard. He knew Gandalf meant every word and thought it fit to end his socializing with the dwarves. Standing, he placed the bowl where he sat and walked away. He returned to his spot where Ori first spoke with him and looked over to the ponies. Someone followed.

Gandalf huffed and sat across form him, “If your goal is to make enemies then I can safely say you are making them.”

Bilbo hummed, “At least I tried being friendly. I did! I sat with Ori near the fire. If that isn’t friendly I don’t know what is.”

“You could have avoided angering Thorin,” the wizard pointed out.

“I could have, but the king was asking for it.”

“He has been through many things, Bilbo.”

“Don’t give me that, Gandalf. We’ve all been through many things. We’ve all had loses. That doesn’t excuse him.”

“No, it doesn’t. But that does not give you the right either!” Gandalf grounded, “you insulted his family and himself. Use your own logic for once. How would you feel if someone insulted Belladonna and your friendship with her?”

“I’d kill them on the spot,” Bilbo simply said, earning a glare from Gandalf, “alright, I admit I might have gone overboard, but it was his own nephews’ faults. What were they trying to accomplish terrifying Ori?”

“Enjoyment for one.”

Bilbo shrugged, “Then they should have seen it coming and Thorin too. They shouldn’t have scared him.”

Gandalf became silent for a moment. The dragon-hobbit frowned and looked at him, waiting for the wizard to explain what he was thinking. “What?”

“Since when have you come to care for the youngest of the dwarves?”

Bilbo spat, “W-what?! I do not care for the youngest. I don’t care for any of them.”

The infuriating twinkle of mirth showed itself in Gandalf’s eyes, “You don’t stand up for someone else if you don’t care for them.”

“I didn’t. I kindly explained to the king’s nephews why orcs were sadly unable to sneak and cut victim’s throats in the dead of night. I was correcting them.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

“Positive. Can’t exactly let them give false information. They’ll cause unnecessary worry.”

“Yes, because worried dwarves is of your main concern.” Gandalf smirked and stood to walk away, “if Belladonna was here she’d want you to apologize for your actions. If not the king then his nephews that you have frightened. They are just babes, after all.”

“If that’s your way of trying to make me right my wrong then you are sadly mistaken.” Bilbo crossed his arms, “and I remember you saying I’m not good with children.”

“No, you’re not, but there’s a start for everything.” With the final word, Gandalf walked away and disappeared somewhere out of sight.

Bilbo sat in silence for a time, thinking over what Gandalf had said about Belladonna and how the blasted wizard was really manipulative, and also why he still allowed himself to be manipulated by him. If Bilbo hadn’t known Gandalf for so many years he would have laughed at his attempts and probably thrown him off a cliff, or something. But because he was Gandalf he allowed it instead. In his own twisted and secretive way the wizard really just wanted the best for Bilbo. He was the first to ever put up with Bilbo’s true nature and still stand by his side. The first to ever endure Bilbo’s abuse and still have the care to smile and say hello, and mean it.

Oh yes, Bilbo was a ball of fire and anger in his first years as a hobbit. He’d lash out for no reason to anyone who bothered him or say a single word. Actually, no. He didn’t lash out for no reason. He lashed out because he was fed up of everyone thinking, believing and calling him nothing more than a hobbit. He was a dragon. Even if he was stuck under sheep’s clothing. He was once a fierce creature that was feared everywhere he flew, but nobody knew of it. They didn’t know what he was once capable. They only saw him for what he looked.

Nothing but a weak and tiny hobbit.

It was Gandalf who was the first to acknowledge his once true form. Without even asking, and from the moment he laid eyes on him, the wizard knew. On that moment, Bilbo remembered what happiness felt like again.

That still didn’t stop him from being a tyrant to the old hatter.

To this day Bilbo had to give it to the old man. He was both determined and patient to still stand by him, even more so when the wizard took care of him on one of his most desperate periods. To make up for it Bilbo promised to return the favor. Whenever the wizard really needed him, Bilbo would join him without fail.

All the wizard ever showed him was kindness throughout the years. Never once did he abandon him like his own kind did. So he knew the manipulative side of the wizard was his way of trying to make him do right for his own well-being. And Bilbo purposely fell in the trap instead of just agreeing to it. It made the old fool feel important and smug, and also because Bilbo never openly admitted he was ever wrong in anything.

There was a noise of someone clearing their throat and Bilbo snapped his head to the source. It was Ori, and he wasn’t alone. His two brothers were by his side. The oldest was in the front while the other was cautiously looking from behind them.

The oldest nodded, signaling he was the one to have cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Master Baggins. My name is Dori.” He introduced, saving Bilbo from the embarrassment of using the wrong name.

“Yes, Master Dori what can I do for you?” Bilbo said, tiredly.

“Actually, it’s Mister. No Masters here. I wanted to say thank you for standing up for Ori. It was probably not your intent but I’d be dishonorable if I allowed it without a word.”

Bilbo scrambled his head. Was he suddenly defending everyone’s honor without him knowing? First Myrtle and now Ori. Who’s next, the entire company? Thorin Oakenshield? “All I did was explained what they said wrong. I wasn’t aware I was defending anyone. You don’t have to go through the trouble.”

“Be that as it may it still needs to be known.” Dori and Ori bowed their heads a bit, “thank you, Master Baggins,” Ori said.

Awkwardly, Bilbo nodded, “You’re welcome.” Darn dwarves and their strange customs.

Satisfied Dori grabbed Ori by the arm and scurried away back to the company. The dwarf Bilbo now guessed was Nori stayed behind. They stared at each other in a challenge. Neither backing out until Nori said, “Why do you continue to fight with Thorin?”

“Why does he continue to insult me?” Bilbo countered.

“Fair enough. You know if he was a king with his mountain he could have you locked up and find a cause to kill you?”

Bilbo chuckled. If only they knew the truth. “And yet the point of this quest is he’s not a king with his mountain. What say we get him on his thrown so he can lock me up already and kill me later?”

“You are an insane hobbit, Master Baggins. And I mean that with kindness. Not many fight back against a king,” Nori praised.

Bilbo grinned, “I’m one of a kind.”

“Let’s hope you stay that way when we reach the end.”

“Without a doubt, Mister Nori. It takes a lot to damage me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm all in tears right now because of the trailer! I can't handle this right now.  
> Thanks for still reading though! I know these are tough times and you are all brave souls.


	9. The Brothers Ri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More friends and bonding!

The next morning there was an interesting development. Actually, there were three interesting developments.

The first was when he woke up. He had placed his bedroll the farthest away from the huddle of dwarves, and he strictly remembered the space between him and the closest dwarf. Now as he looked he found three dwarves closer. The three dwarves were the brothers he had talked to the day before. Dori, Nori and Ori were huddled together a few inches away from his feet. Bilbo had to stare at them dumbly for minutes to make sure what he was seeing was real. When they refused to disappear or move inches away from him he came to the decision that yes they very were real and purposely moved their bedrolls closer for some apparent reason.

Baffled, Bilbo stood quickly and pulled his own bedroll back, but not before studying it and himself in case any of them did something. He couldn’t exactly trust dwarves all of a sudden on the fifth day (or was it the sixth?) from doing something to him while he slept.

None before them had gotten closer when camping, except Gandalf, and that was only a few times.

It was an odd thing to wake up to on that morning. In the past when he picked a spot away from groups they usually got the hint he wanted to be alone and respected his space. Others just pretty much didn’t want to be near him. All the better. These three dwarves purposely moved closer, but he didn’t understand why. They weren’t gaining anything out of it other than his irritation.

Bilbo scowled. It was too early for this. He packed his bedroll and walked away, ignoring the dwarf who was on watch.

The second interesting development happened after all the dwarves and Gandalf were up and about with their saddled ponies and horse and mounted. Myrtle nudged his side, surprising him and making him flinch.

“Pardon, didn’t mean to scare you,” She quickly said, “I wanted to say, if you wish, you can,” she twisted her head to point at the saddle on her back with her snout.

“Are you sure?” Stumped, he didn’t know how to properly react. Had he jumped in an alternate world while he slept?

“I’m sure,” A bit hesitant Bilbo reached for the saddle and mounted. When she didn’t jump to knock him off he relaxed and allowed her to take the lead. She was supporting his weight. The least he could do was not yank on the reigns or kick her on her sides.

She neighed and followed after the other ponies when they began moving. Bilbo noticed some were shooting stares at her and he could only guess it was because they thought her insane for letting a dragon on her back.

The third development involved the three dwarves from earlier. Bilbo and Myrtle were still in the back of the line but this time they were joined by the three brothers. Ori rode next to them while Dori and Nori took up the front. They kept in mind to have a bit of distance but otherwise were closer compared to the start of the journey.

Three new developments and Bilbo had the urge to ask the three dwarves and pony if everything was alright and they didn’t get conked on their noggins when he wasn’t looking. At least they weren’t talking or trying to make conversation with him. If they remained silent then Bilbo could ignore their behavior and let them be.

“Master Baggins do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

He spoke too soon.

“About what, Mast- Mister Ori?”

Ori smiled, “Please, just call me Ori,” Bilbo didn’t return it but Ori continued, “I wanted to ask about hobbits and hobbit cultures. If that’s alright.”

“You can, but I won’t guarantee I know all the answers.” Myrtle snorted and Bilbo flicked her mane in retaliation.

“Is it true, then? That hobbits don’t enjoy stepping out of their lands?” Ori shot him a cautious look, making sure he hadn’t crossed the line already.

The only hobbit in the company closed his eyes. He didn’t need them open. His pony was doing all the walking after all, and she knew to follow the leading ponies. “It’s true that hobbits prefer not to venture outside the Shire. Hobbits are the smallest of races. You can’t really fault them- fault us,” He quickly corrected. If any of the three dwarves closest to him or any listening in caught it they didn’t make it known. Ori nodded eagerly, hoping he continued.

“But as you can see, I’m not one of those hobbits. I’ve been out before. Not my first time.”

“That’s how you know so much about orcs, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Tell me, Master Baggins how does someone like you come to face orcs? Though adventurous, wouldn’t you want to avoid them?” It was Dori that asked.

Bilbo grinned, “This isn’t the first time Gandalf’s asked for my help, Mister Dori, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

The sureness that radiated from his voice gave the three dwarves reason for concern. It was clear they thought this journey had a high possibility of ending with death for him. “You sound really confident about that second chance,” Nori said, “does the dragon not scare you?”

A dragon afraid of a dragon? Simply unheard of in Bilbo’s old world. “There are many things I don’t fear for there isn’t much I fear to lose, Mister Nori,” the three dwarves frowned, “this dragon hasn’t given me a reason to fear it, besides worry it might grow bored and attack the Shire for its… food, I guess,” Bilbo furrowed his eyebrows at his own wording. Trying to explain his non-fear of dragons was quite difficult without giving himself away as a lunatic of sorts.

“Look, what I’m trying to say is I’m not scared of this dragon because I haven’t seen what it’s done.” It’s a lie, obviously. He knew firsthand what dragons were capable of. “I wasn’t there when the mountain was taken.”

“Pray that you never do, Master Baggins,” Dori said with a tone of defeat.

“I take it you were there when the dragon attacked?”

“Aye,” Dori looked forward and refused to see anyone in the eyes, “I was there when everything fell apart. I was there when the fires filled the streets and the winds turned against us.”

A most peculiar feeling rose up in Bilbo’s chest. It was a nasty conflicting feeling. Almost the same as when he first heard the news of Belladonna’s death, but it also had yearning. The desire for the fires and wind again. It was a strange emotion mixed together and he couldn’t figure out where to place it. His mood to ignore the dwarves and pretend they weren’t there vanished and all he could think about was comforting the creatures, and at the same time push to hear about the tales of destruction and reminisce.

Not having a clue on how to react all he could say was, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to speak of it, if you don’t want to.” Something in his tone lifted whatever tension was still hovering over the four and Dori finally looked back at him. Ori and Nori also did the same.

Dori rubbed his face, “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said anything. This doesn’t concern you and you probably don’t wish to hear it.”

“No, no that’s quite alright,” Bilbo reassured.

“It’s just a real eye opener. One moment, you are living carefree with everything and the next all of it is taken away from you. Could you imagine?”

 _Oh yes, I definitely can_ Bilbo thought. “I understand the feeling, Mister Dori. I, too, have suffered the loss.”

“But at least you have a home again,” Ori said with a tight smile, “I wasn’t there when Smaug attacked, but Dori and Nori were. They lost their home, everything important to them.”

“Not all loss is purely materials,” Bilbo said, offhandedly.

The three dwarves understood what he meant and quietly exchanged looks, coming to a decision. The hobbit didn’t pay any attention to them. Instead his thoughts were filled with the loss he was talking about. He thought of his years as a dragon, his old life and Belladonna.

“I’m sorry about your loss, Master Baggins,” Ori said.

Bilbo snapped back, “It happens. You can’t prevent everything,” wanting to change the topic from him he inquired about what Ori had said, “You weren’t there when this _Smaug_ attacked?”

“He wasn’t born yet,” answered Dori, “I was a young adult and Nori was only a child.”

“That must have been a traumatic experience,” the hobbit commented to the star-head dwarf.

Nori shrugged, “I don’t remember much of it.”

“You three are very brave,” Bilbo never noticed the sincerity he had when he said this, “having suffered the way you did and yet you signed up for this quest.”

“It’s our home, Master Baggins.”

“Home… right, one would do anything for a home.”

For the rest of the day Bilbo continued speaking with the three brothers. Ori mostly took up the conversation. One little curious question from the hobbit about Ori’s scribe work, when it was mentioned, sent the little one on a massive spree of tongue wagging and explanations. Bilbo was genuinely curious and listened to every word but so much information was blurted that not even half of it stayed in his mind. Ori talked about his actual scribe work; to the history he so far had recorded, to the desire of why he wanted to be a scribe in the first place. Bilbo’s mind wanted to burst at the end of it.

For a job that only consist with writing down what you see and hear you’d think there wouldn’t be much to talk about.

Bilbo listened, continued to listen and tried to listen. Even when the information went from one ear to the other he still made himself look interested. His actions seemed to appease Dori, who would constantly look back and make sure the two were still side by side and speaking. Nori didn’t do this. He had only given them one look and never bothered again, choosing to trot forward and go join one of the other dwarves. The hatted one.

Half-way through the day they made a stop. Ori almost managed to talk and hog up the entire conversation. His passion for his work was admirable, and Bilbo had to hand it to him. The lad knew exactly what he wanted to do, knew exactly what it involved and was out there making it happen.

They stopped for a quick meal. The hobbit wasn’t given anything to do and quietly sat at the base of the tree and watched the dwarves work.  As he studied them he found all their movements, their speech and their looks, bluntly, quiet annoying. He wanted to walk up to the elderly dwarf with two circle braids and rearrange the damn things. The style was unoriginal (having seen a similar one many years ago) and only gave Bilbo the urge to yank the two braids like reigns. He also wanted to tell the fat dwarf who was cooking to stop standing as if a pony was still in-between his legs. Even his walking he looked like he was trying to adjust on top a saddle. As for speech, the dwarf with the hat had the voice of a heavy drunk that made it nearly impossible for Bilbo to understand whatever he was muttering.

He also began singing out of nowhere.

He sang about food and pots. He sang about stirring and wooden spoons. He sang about his hat and mentioned the fat dwarf. Basically, he sang about everything and anything he did and saw. If his singing didn’t grate Bilbo’s already high nerves his voice certainly did the trick.

Off to the side sat Gandalf, also on a base of a tree and contently smoking his pipe. The wizard watched the dwarves, much like Bilbo. He was careful not to show anything and kept his face neutral. That was until he caught Bilbo’s eyes. They both had a stare down, communicating even though there wasn’t a subject to communicate of. The wizard shot him a stare and motioned something with his pipe. He was flicking it to the dwarven company, specifically pointed one of them out. When the hobbit followed he found the pipe was pointing to the king’s two nephews.

Bilbo glared at him but Gandalf kept his look, motioning even more. Openly rolling his eyes, the hobbit looked away and pointedly ignored him. It was hopeless doing so, however. The damage to his thought process was already done from the wizards words last night. He agreed he might have gone overboard with the nephews deserving what they were making fun of, but he still thought they deserved it. Then again, the two blasted dwarves were still youngsters. Maybe this was their first time venturing into the wilds? If so, what were the dwarves teaching children about danger on the roads?

The more he thought on it the more Bilbo began getting irritated. He was irritated that the two dwarves didn’t know when _not_ to make fun of something and he was irritated that older dwarves didn’t teach them not to behave in such a way. He was also irritated from the fact that he was even thinking about it and might possibly believe his actions were uncalled for.

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no escaping now.

He waited for his chance and found it when the two nephews were ordered to watch over the ponies while the food was prepared. With no other choice and no excuse coming up anytime soon he got up and followed after them. He took a deep breath and mentally prepared for the upcoming headache this was going to cause.

Their backs were turned to him when he reached them. None of them even realized he was there. Either they really were fools and anything could sneak up on them (including an orc), or Bilbo was actually stealthy and quieter than he thought.

The hobbit cleared his throat, causing them both to jump in the air, “Lads, may I have a word?” his mouth had suddenly gone dry. He hated speaking for unnecessary things.

The two dwarves were wide eyed from the shock they just received and cautiously kept a distance from him. Bilbo placed his hands on his hips and awkwardly shuffled his feet, “I’m just going to go ahead and say it. I know I was out of line when I said you both deserve to have an orc sneak up on your while you slept. No one deserves that, except the orcs but I don’t think they’ll be sneaking on each other any time soon. I wish to apologize for my words,” the sentence left a bad taste in his mouth.

The two were looking at him as if they’ve never met him before. He guessed he understood why. There was a long pause that followed after and Bilbo was about to walk away when the gold-head finally spoke, “We- you- I- you didn’t need to go through the trouble.”

The dark-head came next, “We kind of deserved it.”

“We shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

“We learned our lesson,”

“But thank you for apologizing.”

Bilbo’s eyebrow arched, “Learned your lesson, did you now?”

Dark-head grinned, “Yeah, Thorin scolded us the moment he could for speaking as such.”

“It wasn’t pretty,” gold-head added.

“We also apologized to Ori already, just in case you needed to know.”

Bilbo found it strange that they were even mentioning the last part to him. They should be saying that to Dori, not himself. Still, he nodded and accepted. Just before leaving he said, “Tip for the future. Next time poke fun at something less likely to happen, and not when we’re traveling the roads.”

The two nodded furiously. Having nothing left to say the hobbit excused himself and made to walk back to his original spot, but when he came within sight of the temporary spot stop he was met with the king standing just a few feet away from where his nephews were. The king glared, but Bilbo didn’t feel like having a match on that moment and simply smiled sweetly, nodded his head and continued walking. He almost reached his spot before something came barreling down and pushed him flat on his back.

Bewildered, he quickly searched for whatever enemy was responsible and was about to attack but stopped when he found the massive form of the fat dwarf on the ground inches away from him. Now that was an enemy that he does not encounter every day.

“Master Baggins!” Suddenly, two dwarves appeared and each grabbed one of his shoulders to haul him back on his feet. It was Dori and Ori. They began dusting his back from specks of dirt and grass while Bilbo continued starring at the lump of dwarf still on the ground. The dwarf was rolling in an attempt to stand again and when he finally did it was obvious he was embarrassed at what just occurred.

“You clumsy fool, watch where you are going next time!” Dori said to the fat dwarf.

The dwarf flinched at the words and tried ducking his head in an attempt to hide. The hat dwarf came to his rescue, “Hey now, it wasn’t his fault! He tripped.”

“Tripped on his own two feet no doubt. Can’t even walk around without causing accidents.” For whatever reason Dori was beyond annoyed for what the dwarf on the ground did. Bilbo couldn’t even speak his mind because Dori was already doing it for him.

The fat dwarf looked defeated while the hat dwarf looked desperate. “It was an accident, alright! Don’t hold it against him.”

Having had enough, Bilbo grabbed one of Dori’s arms and patted it, trying to sooth him down, “It’s alright, Mister Dori. It was clearly unintentional. Accidents happen, right? Come now, no harm done,” he walked to the dwarf on the ground and held out a hand, forcing a smile to stay on.

The dwarf cautiously grabbed it and Bilbo pulled him back on his feet, “You have some power there, Master Dwarf,” he commented, “tell me, have you ever used it against foes?”

“I- I haven’t gotten the chance to,” The dwarf stuttered out.

“Well, if it ever comes down to it, I can’t wait to see it used in battle,” feeling a twitch start on his face Bilbo ended the conversation and walked away, but not before patting Dori and Ori on their shoulders and saying a quick “thank you.”

He managed to hold being alone for a good twenty minutes before a dwarf appeared before him. It was the hat dwarf, and after a quick study the hobbit found he wasn’t alone. The fat dwarf from before was also there and so was another gruff looking dwarf that had a piece of axe imbedded in his head. Bilbo only stared at it for a second before becoming uninterested. After the last similar confrontation he had a general idea of what this was about.

“Master Baggins,” started the hat dwarf, “we wish to say thank you, for what you said back there,” the dwarf had taken off his hat and was holding it nervously near his chest and in-between his hands.

He defended another dwarf, perfect. “There is no need for that, Master Dwarf.”

“It’s Mister,” the dwarf quickly corrected, “no high status dwarves here, you see.”

Bilbo didn’t, but he still said “I see.”

“My name is Bofur and this is my brother, Bombur,” he gestured to the fat dwarf, “and cousin Bifur,” he pointed to the axe head, “we never properly introduced ourselves. Better late than never,” he finished with a smile.

Bilbo nearly grimaced. Clearly, the hat dwarf’s best quality was his smile. The hobbit tried returning the smile, but it wasn’t as bright as the dwarf’s, “Well, you are quiet welcome. Next time try and watch where you throw your weight around. Don’t want to accidentally hurt one of your own thinking they’re an enemy.”

The ‘now called Bombur’ dwarf nodded vigorously. He still had a bit of color on his cheeks. The Bofur dwarf placed his hat back on his head, “Aye, he’ll do that.”

The cousin dwarf muttered something harsh and signed with his fingers. “Bifur says to watch out when he starts charging. You can’t escape when his feet are on the run,” Bofur translated.

“I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

Having done what they came to do the three dwarves bowed and quickly scurried back to their kin. Bilbo shook his head at the trio and then at the entire company. What was it about speaking up that these dwarves thought it defending their honor? And on another thought, the hat dwarf and fat dwarf were brothers? Just from sight Bilbo would never have guessed they were related in any way. One was ginger-haired while the other dark-haired. One was obese and the other somewhat skinny. He could see it between the Bofur fellow and his cousin, but not between him and Bombur. The same went for Fili and Kili.

Such an odd thing, having hatchlings with so different features from each other.

Bilbo would never understand how any of that worked. Good thing he didn’t have to worry about mates and offspring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering we still haven't reached the trolls and this is the 9th chapter you can tell this story will have many of them. There will be some Bagginshield, I promise you! Just be patient and it will be worth it.  
> After this chapter the updates will slow down. 
> 
> Thanks for reading~! You guys are the best!


	10. Troll Nerves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something bothers Bilbo, and the Trolls happen.

Near sundown they had traveled a fair distance from the first quick stop and found a destroyed and deserted farm house just before the sun disappeared from the sky. The king and the wizard were the first to search the place. All that was left were a few pillars and the floor boards. If a family had been living here prior before their arrival there wasn’t any sign they ever were.

Besides the destroyed foundation there wasn’t any other clue as to what could have possibly been responsible for it. Not knowing what was possibly around irked Bilbo to no end. He hated not knowing what was crawling in his surroundings when there was obvious evidence of something around right in front of his face. His hobbit senses were useless when it came to alerting him on his settings. His ears couldn’t hear beyond the trees and his nose wouldn’t smell anything besides food. His eyes were just as useless.

How have hobbits even survived for so long?

As a dragon he knew everything that entered and left in his territory. He heard the sounds of prey lurking around. He smelled the fear of those who tried sneaking past him. He remembered the sights of those who foolishly thought they could get away from him. It all painted a magnificent picture.

Not having that power to know where everything was every minute of every day, Bilbo felt like a sitting duck.

He stroked Myrtles mane softly, playing with single strands he managed to grab hold of with the tip of his fingers. With his weakened eyes he studied the collection of trees surrounding them as best as he could. It wasn’t much, but knowing no obvious danger was present did manage to sooth him down. There was a bigger danger, though. He just knew it. What he didn’t appreciate was why Gandalf was not outright pointing it out.

The wizard above everyone else was usually so cautious about possible danger. A home destroyed and abandoned (and recently considering the lack of webs) was all you needed to know something was not right. None of the dwarves even paid attention to the clues that were smack in front of their faces.

Bilbo’s fingers twitched anxiously. There was a huge feeling of peril surrounding him. Whoever was responsible for the home was still nearby. He could just tell. He didn’t realize how, but he understood that if they stayed here something was going to happen. Something with consequences.

His hand tightened around the collection of fur without his knowledge and he growled at nothing. Myrtle jumped and whined as she pulled away, nearly causing Bilbo to stumble forward to the ground. His mind back in reality he looked at her in confusion. She whinnied and nudged his arm with her snout while turning her body away so she could face him forward. Bilbo patted her snout in question.

“You were hurting me,” Myrtle said.

The hobbit looked ashamed for a second, “I’m terribly sorry. I wasn’t aware.”

She pushed against his hand, “That’s alright. What has you so focused? You keep staring into the trees.”

“Nothing, nothing just lost in thought,” He put his best smile on, “and wondering why we aren’t moving.” He really didn’t like the thought of resting here for the night. A feeling on his gut and chest were making him experience… something. It gave him an intense urge to run and leave the place as fast as he could, and to get the group of dwarves as far away as possible.

“I think your pack leader wishes to rest here.”

“Bad idea,” Bilbo muttered and looked to where he last saw the king and Gandalf. He couldn’t catch a sight of them because another dwarf suddenly asked him, “Master Baggins are you talking to that pony?”

He was surprised when he found Kili right in front of him. Had the lad always been that close to him? Bilbo didn’t even notice him there.

Bilbo tried looking over his shoulder for his two original targets, “Nothing wrong with speaking to your ponies every once in a while. They’re carrying your weight. The least you could do is treat them like any other comrade.”

If Kili made a face from his offhanded explanation Bilbo didn’t notice. He was too focused on the movements the wizard was making and the angry face the dwarven king was pulling. The two were arguing, but over what was the question. Gandalf was becoming irritated now. Clearly the king said something that he didn’t want to hear.

“Come on, Gandalf,” Bilbo whispered to himself, “we can’t stay here.”

Finally, the wizard pulled away and the hobbit was about to walk up and speak with him, but when Gandalf said, “Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!” and looked like he wasn’t going to stop for anything Bilbo quickly changed his thought.

“Where are you going?” Bilbo asked but Gandalf didn’t even stop for that, marching faster away.

“To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense!” Gandalf barked and continued his march.

Bilbo felt his stomach drop and his anger rise, “And who is that, exactly?”

“Myself, Mister Baggins!” He said Mister Baggins. Gandalf was beyond mad. Never does the wizard ever speak his name so formally (any of his names over the years) unless the wizard was angered by something.

Gritting his teeth Bilbo followed after him, “You’re leaving us just like this? Whatever happened to sticking through it until the end! You would leave me alone with this company?” In a lower tone he muttered, “Gandalf, something is not right. We can’t separate. There is danger out there that I don’t know.”

Gandalf stopped abruptly and turned, “You have the least to worry then, without my presence. You can more than take care of yourself, Bilbo Baggins, as can I. But right now if I stay one more minute in the company of these dwarves _I_ will be the danger here.”

“Helping these dwarves was _your_ idea,” Bilbo whispered harshly.

“And now it is your task,” Gandalf turned and began walking again.

“Gandalf!”

The dwarves watched the entire exchange with different emotions. The king in particular had irritation from not knowing what the hobbit and wizard were speaking about, “What is wrong, halfling?” Thorin said, “Can’t do anything without the wizard holding your hand?”

Bilbo clenched his hands and glared at the king. “I’d rather him hold my hand than any of you.” The feeling from earlier with the combination of anger from Gandalf deserting them was mixing up to be a really terrible emotion. Bilbo both wanted to strangle every dwarf he saw in sight and push them away from their current spot.

“Then start learning to do things without him. For someone who has experience in the wilds you seem to lack being able to do things alone.”

Bilbo couldn’t even give the king his usual grin he gave those who were ignorant of the situation. “And for someone who supposedly knows so much of the wilds you lack the knowledge that traveling alone means certain death.”

“You aren’t traveling alone! You have the strength of my company surrounding you. Do you not trust my company to keep you safe?” Thorin growled.

“I wouldn’t even trust your company to keep my silverware safe.” Bilbo bit and turned back to look at the retreating form of the wizard, barely visible between the tree branches. The wizard couldn’t leave. Something was not right of the place.

“If that is how you truly feel then return back to your silverware! Go and hold the hand of the wizard since you desperately wish to do so!” When the king uttered these words Bilbo wasn’t even fazed. The words were barely acknowledged in his head, but he knew what the dwarf had said.

Growling, Bilbo took three steps to follow the wizard and try to convince him back. The thought of his friend alone in the woods while he felt this invisible danger surrounding them was not comforting. Even if his friend was a wizard he still felt the need to keep him within sight.

Before he could take a fourth step a voice from behind called to him, “Bilbo!” and he stopped. The voice belonged to Ori, and the lad’s voice had a hint of fear in it as he said his name.

“Master Baggins,” this time Dori said.

Bilbo took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He was conflicted. His friend was out there alone and he couldn’t leave him like that, but then these dwarves were going to rest right in the middle of where these emotions were coming from and Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to allow anything bad to befall them.

Gandalf had magic and had many years of experience traveling the lands alone but these dwarves didn’t and would be doomed without him was what he told himself when he turned and walked back to the company. Focused on glaring down the grass and not facing any of their faces, Bilbo missed the eight dwarves he had conversed with during the journey give him a look of relief at his return.

“Come on, Bombur, we’re hungry.” If Thorin Oakenshield had any comment to say for Bilbo’s return he wisely kept it to himself and began barking orders for everyone to set up camp.

“Might I be so bold and suggest we keep moving up the road for camp?” Bilbo said out loud, facing Thorin who had heard but decided to ignore him, “of course,” with no other alternative Bilbo went to attend to Myrtle. She was quiet and kept the question clearly in her mind to herself. The hobbit was grateful. Right now his nerves were too far gone from fighting against each other that the last thing he wanted was to explain.

None of the dwarves bothered him as the sun went down. A wreck of nerves, Bilbo stood farthest from the camp and faced the direction his wizard friend marched off to, waiting for him to return. He was certain the old hatter would reappear once he cooled off, but it was taking far too long. Had something happened to him during his walk?

Another body appeared behind him. Bilbo didn’t get startled by them, but at the same time he didn’t even noticed them either.

“Is he going to return?” asked Ori.

“Who knows,” Bilbo admitted, “Sadly, the old fool is a wizard and does whatever he chooses, infuriating as it might be. He can take care of himself, no doubt, but even a wizard should be mindful.”

“Do you think something happened to him?”

“I’m not sure. I can only hope it hasn’t,” Not wanting to speak more of the subject Bilbo excused himself and made his way to the fire where most of the dwarves were gathered. Deciding he was not in the mood for more talking he quickly tried going another direction but both Bofur and Bombur caught him.

“Master Baggins how are you feeling?” Bombur said.

“I could be better,” Bilbo muttered and looked back.

Bofur scooped up a spoon-full of soup and filled a bowl, “I’m sure Gandalf will be fine. He’s a wizard after all.”

“That’s what’s worrying me.”

“Here, let’s distract you then,” Bofur held up two bowls, cautiously, “do you mind taking these to the lads? They’re over by the ponies watching them. It’s a short walk but it could help keeping your mind busy. At least for a while.”

Bilbo didn’t reply and grabbed both bowls, roughly. He walked for the spot where the ponies were tied up and kept a mental note to pet Myrtle. He found the two lads standing side by side and staring off to the direction opposite of where the camp was. Bilbo called to them but didn’t receive an answer. “Lads, what’s the matter?”

It was only when he was standing right next to them that they decided to speak what was clouding their minds. “We’re supposed to be looking out for the ponies,” Kili said.

“But we’ve encountered a bit of a problem,” Fili added.

Bilbo quickly scouted the area the moment they said problem. He counted the ponies and instantly noticed what they meant. “There are only fourteen ponies out of sixteen,” he snapped his head back to them, making them flinch from his glare, “what happened to the ponies?”

“We were looking out for them! Honest,” Kili backed a few steps.

“I’m sure you were,” The hobbit growled, “what ponies are missing?”

A quick search they found Daisy and Bungo were missing, along with a couple of trees crushed and pushed right out of the ground. The moment Bilbo saw this his nerves were suddenly on high alert and all he could think of was ‘ _move away_ ’ and ‘ _hide’_. He glared down the broken tree, willing for it to give him an answer and what he needed to know, anything to warn him of the looming danger nearby.

 

_Move away_

_Hide_

 

There was a faint noise of something moving in the distance. He couldn’t describe its source but he knew it was getting closer, too close.

 

_Move them away_

_Hide them_

 

The noise was almost next to them and they became clear. They were the sounds of footsteps, giant footsteps stomping across grass and fallen leaves and causing tree branches to snap from contact.

 

_Move them away **now**!_

**_Hide_!**

 

Throwing the bowls on the ground, he quickly grabbed them both by their shoulders and pushed them down under a fallen trunk. They hid just in time as a massive form appeared from out of nowhere and stepped over the trunk. It was a troll, and it was carrying luggage.

A neigh echoed across the trees, causing Bilbo to snap his attention to what the troll carried. In both its arms were two ponies. One of which he recognized instantly.

Myrtle! The blasted troll somehow got hold of Myrtle.

“Minty!” Kili whispered, “he’s got Minty!”

“And Myrtle,” The hobbit added, jumping over the log and following after the nasty brute. Fili and Kili were right behind him.

Off in the distance they spotted a light as they got closer. The light, they found, came from a fire in the center of a troll camp. There were three giant trolls stomping around ungracefully with the herd of ponies they collected together in the back. On top the fire was a grand metal pot that one troll was stirring.

“They’re going to eat the ponies!” Kili said.

“No they are not,” Bilbo pointed at the two dwarves, “you both go back and warn the company.”

“What? What about you?”

The hobbit gave them a harsh push to encourage them to get a move on, “I’m going to free the ponies. Now go!” And they did, bolting off back into the trees and back to where the company was.

Back to the trolls he steeled himself for what he was about to do. Never was he going to allow his pony to be eaten by the likes of trolls, especially these sorry looking lots. What baffled him about the situation was why the trolls were even down here in the first place. They belonged in the mountains, but for some reason they traveled all the way here. Gandalf would have a field day if he knew about this.

Taking a deep breath he marched around the camp as quietly as he could. The ponies were held in the back by means of one simple rope that was meant to be a fence. A poor fence. None of the three trolls even noticed he was there. So focused were they on belittling and hurting each other they never thought to turn around and find a tiny little hobbit sneaking around right under their noses.

He reached the rope fence and tugged on it experimentally. It didn’t budge. He searched the collection of ponies to find his own. Even though ponies don’t really show much emotion because their faces were- well, he didn’t really know how to put it, but some animals had a really hard time trying to show what they feel. Myrtle, just by looking at her, was beyond frightened.

“Myrtle,” He softly called out.

“Bilbo! Bilbo it’s you!” She neighed and tried getting closer.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m here to set you free, but all of you need to calm down,” He soothed, “come now, take deep breaths.”

The ponies did. Each one took a deep breath that caused snot to come flying out of their noses. Obviously they were more frightened than he thought. He tugged on the rope again, willing for it to show signs of ripping or worn from old age, but the rope still refused to budge.

“Alright, we’ll need to do this another way. All of you need to trust me and do exactly what I tell you to, got it?”

The ponies whinnied a response.

“Here we go. I need you all to-” whatever he was going to say was cut off when a giant hand wrapped around his tiny body and lifted him.

“Bilbo!” Myrtle shouted.

Bilbo would never admit that he squeaked when the troll hand clutched him roughly. He did, however, put up a fight the moment he was off the ground. He was feet in the air. He hadn’t been this high since he had to climb that ten feet tall tree because Gandalf’s hat decided to take flight and got stuck on the very top branches. And that was too many years ago.

“Look what we ‘ave ‘ere,” One troll said.

“What is it?” Another prodded from the side.

“Don’t ‘now, but I don’t like he was talkin’ to the horse.”

The last troll hovered his face nearby, “What are you then? An oversized squirrel?”

Bilbo glared at the trolls. How dare they grab him like a stuffed doll! “Your minds couldn’t even comprehend what I am so I’m not going to indulge you on it. I do, however, suggest you let me go and release the ponies.”

“This squirrel ‘as a mouth on ‘im!” The troll holding Bilbo said.

“Seeing your situation you should watch what you say,” Third-troll threatened.

“And being ignorant to your situation I say watch what you do,” Bilbo tried pulling himself free. If only the troll holding him would get closer so he could stab his eyes out. That’d be something.  

“I don’t like this squirrel. Can we eat him?” Second-troll hovered around.

“We can try!”

The troll holding him shook his arm, “He wouldn’t make more than a mouthful! Good thing we ‘ave the horses.”

Something inside Bilbo’s chest burned when the troll mentioned the ponies. His thought went to Myrtle being cooked in the lethal soup boiling over the fire or being eaten raw on the spot. The sensation started small, being only a tiny warmth inside his chest that grew and grew little by little. Before Bilbo knew it a feeling of heat was consuming him. He held his breath in, unable to breathe properly and fearing the burning would intensify if he took another gasp of air. The feeling reached his arms and legs. They were engulfed, they seared and he swore he almost saw them releasing steam.

The burning. He hadn’t felt it in ages. He didn’t recognize at first, but like a repressed memory eager to come back out into the world the feeling of similarity surrounded him. Bilbo thought it a trick of his mind. So desperate was he that he’d imagine all this happening, but the sensation of fire in his chest continued.

Could it be?

“Oi, what’s the matter with ya?” The troll shook him and squeezed him in an attempt to get an answer. It was the biggest and last mistake he’d make in his life.

The pressure on his stomach forced the air to come out and in a mighty roar he released the flames, and for the first time since the curse Bilbo had breathed fire.

So close was he to the troll, the only place the flames could travel was directly to the creature’s face. The troll let go of him in pain and tried putting out the fires. He was screaming and jumping, as if the action could help putting it out. So shocked was Bilbo about what he had just done that he stood and didn’t move. He expected the troll to get back on his feet and say the entire thing was just acting and that he really just imagined his fire from desperation, but it never came. The troll continued to jump and patted his face with his giants hands, but the fire refused to be put out.

Dragon fire almost had a life of its own. Bilbo missed that.

The troll’s two friends were so disoriented that they didn’t, and couldn’t, do anything to help and went for the next best thing. “What did you do to him!”

Bilbo gave them a feral grinned. “I warned him,” with no new warning and a chest still filled with heat he took a deep breath and unleashed more fire upon his enemies, aiming directly at their faces. They didn’t stand a chance.

The fire burned everything from their noses to their lips and their eyes, blinding them. Bilbo watched them whither until his fire burned out on its own, leaving the trolls with unrecognizable faces and no way of knowing where anything was. Ignoring them he turned back to the ponies. They jumped when he got closer and backed away as far as they could. All except Myrtle who stood her ground with courage.

“Are you all alright?” Bilbo asked them, specifically her.

“We are now,” Myrtle studied him, “your fire, it has-?”

The hobbit smiled, “My fire, it seems, has returned.” He couldn’t believe it, and when he uttered these words they sounded so foreign he wasn’t sure if he even said it in the first place.

“Yes, and you still smell of a warm and fierce fire,”

He remembered their conversation from the day before, “Looks like your noses really did smell something.”

She snorted, “Yes, but you also still smell of grass.”

“Now that part you are mistaken. Why would I smell of grass?”

“We do not know.”

“Of course not. Ponies don’t have all the answers,” He teased.

She crept closer and nudged her snout against his arm, “We thank you, Bilbo, for saving us.”

Bilbo ran his hand across her face, “I wasn’t about to sit around and watch you all get hurt.”

“Saved by a dragon. This is going to be a story worth telling.”

“A story worth telling, indeed,” Bilbo repeated.

From behind him a voice was heard, “A fine story, truly!” Turning around he was both surprised and relieved to see it was Gandalf.

“Gandalf! You maddening old wizard where have you been?!” He stood and ran to the wizard, stopping himself from jumping for a hug. Clearly, he was in a great mood if he was out and about almost giving hugs to others.

“Looking ahead,” The wizard answered and stood in front of him.

“Don’t give me that, Gandalf.”

“I will give you that for it’s the truth, Bilbo,” Gandalf smirked but then turned his face serious, “care to explain what happened here?”

Bilbo looked at the trolls and then to his friend, “The answer is quite obvious.”

“And so it is,” Gandalf smiled again, “why, Bilbo Baggins, you can breathe fire again! A most joyous occasion, I’m sure! But now we have a serious problem.”

The hobbit’s enjoyment disappeared. Way for the wizard to ruin his joy. “What problem?”

“Quickly now, grab hold one of those kindles! Hold the hot end up like a sword. No time to waste!”

Bilbo did what he was told without an explanation or asking any questions. He grabbed hold of one of the torches keeping the fire alive and yanked it up. It required both his hands to do so. Gandalf stood next to him. “Now, act as if you just ran from Bree to the Shire in one day.”

“What? Gandalf, don’t you think that’s a bit exaggerated?”

“Do it!”

Rolling his eyes with a bit of rebellion Bilbo began breathing rapidly and hunched his back a bit for the added effect. He used the giant kindle as a staff and leaned on it for support. When he was about to question why he needed to do this his answer suddenly appeared in the form of thirteen dwarves bursting through the trees. Bilbo continued playing the part, even after the dwarves noticed Gandalf next to him and three giant trolls with burnt faces and very much still alive.

“Are you going to continue staring at the trolls or are you going to end their misery?” Gandalf questioned them when they didn’t make a move.  

That snapped them back. Thorin ordered three dwarves to take care of the trolls while he shot the hobbit and wizard suspicious looks. “What happened here?”

“I would think it obvious,” Gandalf said, “our hobbit here confronted these trolls when they stole these ponies and used any means necessary. He was very clever to blind them by using their own fire.”

To show what Gandalf meant Bilbo pushed the kindle back with its brothers. “Very heavy business this thing was. It’s a miracle I managed it.”

“Indeed,” Thorin narrowed his eyes, “tell me, halfing, how does someone like you manage to both carry that and burn trolls that are a mountain taller than you.”

“First of all,” Bilbo glared, “this _halfling_ has a name. Bilbo Baggins, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Second, don’t exaggerate. I’ve climbed mountains. These trolls were nowhere near one. Finally, to answer your question, trolls are half-wits. You could probably trick them into eating poison if you use the correct words. These trolls carried them for me. I simply gave them the extra push to reach their faces.”

Some of the dwarves refused to believe it was that simple while those he had spoken with looked at him with awe and respect.

“That’s amazing, Master Baggins!” Kili said with a huge smile.

“Of course Gandalf also might have helped,” Bilbo added to tie up loose ends. If the dwarves didn’t believe him capable, he was positive they’d believe Gandalf was.

“I only had a small hand in it,” Gandalf agreed, “but I assure you it was all Bilbo.”

“Then we’ll take your word for it,” Balin said with a nod.

Others were still not convinced it was the entire story, but they didn’t make their opinions known. Thorin most notably was one of these, but decided to keep it quiet for now in favor of asking the wizard where exactly he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates from now are either once or twice a week, unless something comes up. If it does I'll make it up to you guys and post multiple chapters at once. 
> 
> *Hugs you all* Hope you enjoyed this one and didn't disappoint.


	11. An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new skill and Radagast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> Art by Unirizz  
> [Link](http://unirizz.deviantart.com/art/The-olden-gold-473323382)
> 
> Another dragon Bilbo with that beautiful golden coating and built body!

Bilbo was having an internal battle in his head and his chest. His thoughts were all over the place and his emotions weren’t any better. The trolls were gone but he still felt something wrong in the area. His senses were still on alert and his body was itching to protect something. This feeling took up one part while the joy of knowing he breathed fire not twenty minutes ago took up the other. He felt cheerful knowing that one part of him that he missed with every fiber of his being was back, and even after time passed he still had the warmth of the fire swirling in his chest.

He wanted to celebrate, but at the same time he wanted to tell the company and Gandalf to hurry up because if they waited any longer it would be too late.

The company and Gandalf, now they were doing something else entirely not fit for what he was feeling.

A number of the dwarves and the wizard went inside the troll cave to search any treasure the three brutes might have been hiding. Bilbo waited outside and as far away as he could from the cave. He didn’t want to see or even smell the blasted hole filled with the disgusting aftermath of trolls living inside. In fact, he didn’t even want to think about the troll cave. The dwarves would have never found the cave if it wasn’t for Bilbo, and all because Gandalf had the audacity to ask him if he smelled any gold around and if he could follow it back to its source.

What was he, a dog?

Bilbo was never able to smell gold after he was turned into a hobbit. Why the wizard even asked him to sniff it out the first place was beyond him but to appease the wizard he did. At first it wasn’t really much. He just took in air through his nose slowly. He smelled the trees and the grass and morning dew, since the sun had finally appeared in the sky. He smelled what his hobbit nose usually smelled every day since the curse. Nothing different and nothing new. No, it wasn’t until he took it the fifth air that he smelled something abnormal and caught his attention. The smell was out of place with the nature surrounding him. It wasn’t calm, alive or tender like Myrtle described grass to be. It was everything but. It was harsh, bitter and tempting.

Bilbo instantly recognized it.

It was the same smell he lived with for many years. He was surrounded by it, lived with it, was buried in it and guarded it with his very life.

Gold. Precious gold that, even if it was buried in the deepest troll cave imaginable, Bilbo knew was shining and glittering at that very moment as he smelled. Letting his nose guide him, he followed where the smell originated. Gandalf was the only one with him so he didn’t need to hide his obviously unnatural action. The wizard followed closely behind him as Bilbo continued after the trail and when he stumbled upon an opening that had the mix of gold and troll he stood and stared at it, dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe he just did what he did. He even looked at Gandalf to see if the wizard explained it was all a fluke and he guessed where he was going, but the reassurance/discouragement never came.

A feeling of nausea engulfed him and he couldn’t get away from the cave fast enough. The gold smelled horrid to him. It had a ghastly combination that both made him want to bury the cave and away from his sight in disgust, or fiercely protect it and claim it as his own, chasing away any potential thieves.

It took the dwarves longer to find the cave, only succeeding when they spotted Bilbo standing near it and Gandalf calling them down. Four of them went in while the rest hovered outside. Bilbo didn’t pay them much attention. The stench of gold was still fresh in his nose and mind but it had weakened with the scent of grass coating it. He snatched a branch covered with leaves from the nearest bush and took a big whiff of it. The scent quickly covered up the gold and his body relaxed slightly. Now all that was left was the ever present feeling of dread.

Bilbo’s hand began to twitch. Not because of anger or irritation, but because he didn’t understand what was happening. He was happy because he breathed fire; he had an overwhelming urge to push everyone behind him and out of danger, the impending danger itself refused to go away and now suddenly he could smell gold. There were equal numbers of positives and negatives and it was all sending his mind and emotions on a loop.

Somehow, everything he was experiencing reminded him of a newly hatched fledgling. Barely entering the world with no understanding as to why his nerves were telling him to hide and why he had to find safety under a bigger body. However, instead of being the hatchling he was the parent. He was the one who wanted to push the smaller creature under him.

Growling, he swatted the bushes and sat himself down in frustration. The gold was giving him a headache and their surroundings were getting on his last nerve. They needed to leave the place before he set the entire thing on fire, literally.

“Master Baggins?” Bilbo didn’t bother to look at Kili when he walked up to him. “Is something the matter?”

 _Many things_ Bilbo wanted to say but instead went with, “Just a bit of a headache is all.” He was turned away from the young dwarf and so didn’t see the concerned face the lad pulled when he said this.

“Did you get injured? If you got injured I can get Oin.”

The hobbit ran a hand over his face. He really didn’t want to talk right now and needed to be alone. “No, no lad. I’m fine, didn’t get injured. This forest is just giving me a bad feeling.”

“Is it?” Kili looked around, “It doesn’t look like there is any danger around.”

 _Dwarves and their horrid senses._ “Is there anything you needed?” He tried not to snap but old habits die hard.

Kili shuffled around, uneasy. “Just curious if you got to see inside the cave. There’s treasure in there. Don’t you want to see the gold?”

The thought of gold made Bilbo shiver and not a good shiver at all. He was repulsed. It was odd. He held gold and even carried it for years now. The first time he held a piece of solid gold coin after the curse was placed he felt… nothing. The gold was nothing to him. It didn’t spark his greed from his younger years and didn’t give him the urge to hoard them protectively.

At first he was disappointed about it. Taking away his obsession of gold was basically taking away a part of him. It took away what made him, well, him. Everything he knew about life as a dragon, gone in one day. But once he got over his own self-pity he found the entire thing fascinating. Before the curse, gold was all he thought about. All his life lived for. After the curse, it was like an invisible force was released and he was free. For once he had a clear mind with a gold piece just inches away from him. It was interesting, looking at the world without clouded eyes. It was even better when Gandalf gave him purpose that didn’t involve him hoarding something away from others.

When Belladonna left him Bag End she also left him her fortune. According to the hobbits around he now had the most coin out of all of them. The richest hobbit, but Bilbo didn’t care.

He laughed at that.

As a dragon he collected gold like mad and could never get enough. When it wasn’t enough he flew the skies to raid and strike fear in attempts to make up for the missing feeling that would not be satisfied. To think, a dragon like himself didn’t care for gold or gems anymore. Simply unheard of, and yet it was all true.

Now, smelling the gold and remembering its temptation made Bilbo loathe it. It had power again. Something that wasn’t alive and didn’t do anything besides shine shouldn’t have power over others or be worth killing over.

Remembering Kili was still next to him waiting for an answer he placed his best smile on, “I don’t really care much for gold. Hobbits don’t have much use for it. Now, if you speak of food I’ll be over there as quick as a rabbit.”

Kili smiled at his response. The smile suited the lad. “There isn’t food inside but next time I have some I’ll see if you’ll really be as quick as a rabbit.”

 _As if_ Bilbo thought and rolled his eyes with a smirk.

Too much time passed after that. Too much for his liking. Gandalf and the dwarves should have been done a long time ago. It wasn’t like they planned on taking everything inside with them, right? They were only supposed to have a look.

Fed up with waiting he stood and marched for the cave. The scent of troll and gold filled his nose and the nausea was back. How the dwarves or Gandalf weren’t heaving from being inside was beyond him. He hadn’t even crossed the mouth of the cavern and already he wanted to hurl everything out. Sucking in air, he puffed up and forced the feeling back down. He wasn’t weak and no smell was going to take him down.

And no temptation either.

Ignoring the gold and treating it like forgotten string, he made to step through and give the dwarves and the wizard a stern talking to when out they came with Gandalf and Thorin carrying new weapons on their belts. The wizard went to him and handed over a small letter-opener.

Confused, he grabbed it, “What’s this? You aren’t seriously giving me this for a weapon.”

“It’s just about your size.” Gandalf confirmed his question.

“Surely there is something bigger inside. I can’t even cut the weeds with this thing.” Bilbo held up the sword, revealing it for all to see. It was elvish. It was fine and was well-made but it was excruciatingly small.

“I wasn’t aware you took up gardening.” There was mirth in the wizard’s eyes.

“Gandalf, I’m serious.”

“As am I! Bilbo, the size of the weapon does not determine its skill. It is the user that makes it great and forms it a legend.”

“And there is the famous wizard wisdom,” Bilbo muttered and sheathed the sword back and fastened it around his waist. “Gandalf, we need to get out of here. There is something out there-” of course the moment he was finally going to say about his bad feeling was the moment the dwarves shouted “Something’s coming!” and suddenly they all ran to the center with their weapons out, Gandalf following after.

“Unbelievable!” Bilbo shouted and ran to reach them. Together they circled a spot and faced the direction of whatever alerted them was coming from and out of the bushes and trees appeared a collection of rabbits pulling a sleigh with a very familiar looking pudgy fellow with a staff and brown hat riding it.

 _Radagast!_ Bilbo mentally cheered. Now this was someone besides Gandalf and Belladonna that he’d gladly have as company.

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” Radagast shouted in anger.

Bilbo and Gandalf sheathed their weapons. “Radagast! Radagast the Brown. Put your weapons away, he’s a friend.” Gandalf ordered the dwarves who slowly complied.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Bilbo asked with a smile.

Radagast didn’t seem to have noticed him at first, “I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong,” Finally, he realized Bilbo was there, “Endis! My, it’s been years! I didn’t even notice you were here! What are you doing here?”

Bilbo’s heart sank and for a second he felt fear from having his true name said. Luckily, Gandalf was there to fix it, “Endis is Bilbo’s Sindarin name,” he explained to the dwarves. Most of them gave a look of disgust at the revelation.

“I prefer Bilbo,” Kili said, offhandedly. Most of the dwarves agreed with him.

“Then call me Bilbo,” The hobbit told them and looked to Radagast. “Bilbo Baggins,” he introduced, “The name I go by now.” He hoped the brown wizard took the hint, but knowing Radagast firsthand he knew it was a lost cause.  

“Bilbo Baggins? Certainly different from your other ones, but never mind that! Gandalf, I need to speak with you!”

The two wizards spoke in private while the company of dwarves took up spots surrounding their location. Bilbo wandered back to the ponies to check on Myrtle. After the trolls he didn’t give her much attention because Gandalf decided to use him as a sniffing hound, but now waiting for the wizards he had a lot of making up to do. Bilbo wasn’t even near her when she suddenly jumped when he stepped on a huddle of fallen leaves that caused a loud ‘crunch.’

“Whoa! It’s alright. It’s just Bilbo.” Bilbo held his hands up to show he wasn’t a threat and smiled, “What has you so jumpy?”

Myrtle was breathing heavy and her ears were twitching any and every way she could twist them to. Even when she talked with him her ears did not stop, “Forgive me, Bilbo.” Her voice had fear in it and signaled Bilbo that something was wrong. Alert, he quickly reached her side and ran a hand through her mane.

Searching for anything out of place he asked her in a low tone to avoid being heard by others, “What’s wrong?”

“We don’t know,” She answered and continued making her ears twitch, “we feel something is near. Something dangerous.”

Bilbo didn’t like the sound of this, “You feel it too, then?”

“Yes, something is coming. A hunter.”

“Not good,” Bilbo muttered and shot every tree a suspicious look, “do you know what kind of hunter?”

Myrtle whinnied, “a strong hunter with sharp eyes and nose. The hunter is not alone. It has a pack.”

And as if his worst nightmare was made real a howl echoed through the trees, making every dwarf, wizard, pony and hobbit search around. Bilbo’s senses were on high alert all over again, much like the start of the incident with the trolls, and his troubles were just doubled. If it was just himself he wouldn’t worry at all, but he had a company of defenseless ponies, killable dwarves and two wizards he wasn’t about to see hurt. They needed to get a move on. Now.

Myrtle moved between his arms in panic. “They’re coming! They’re coming!”

Bilbo tightened his hold, “Shh, calm down! Don’t panic! If you panic then you will surely get captured by them!” And by them he meant the Wargs. He had traveled the lands for years with Gandalf and knew the sound of warg howls like the back of his hand.

“We won’t survive this!” Myrtle’s fright began stirring up the rest of the ponies and they too started panicking.

“They will outrun us!” They all shouted.

“Enough!” Bilbo hissed as loud as he could without alerting the dwarves, “They won’t outrun you.” Making a decision he quickly loosened Myrtle’s saddle, dropping it on the ground. With his letter-opener he sliced through the rope tying the ponies down and barked for them to remain calm and listen. “Myrtle, do you know east from west?”

“Of course,” Myrtle said, baffled and still frightened, “But what does that-”

“Head east,” Bilbo ordered, “head east and keep going east. Rivendell is not far from here. Seek safety under the elves. Lead your kin there and don’t look back.”

“But what about the dwarves? They’ll be easy prey.”

“With or without you they are still easy prey. Don’t worry,” Bilbo petted her mane one last time, “I’ll take care of them. They won’t go down without a fight.”

“You are a strange creature, Bilbo,” Myrtle nuzzled his chest, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go.” Bilbo pushed her, “Go!” and off she went, followed by her kin closely behind. Together they trampled through the bushes and disappeared in the trees. “Be safe.”

With the ponies gone he ran back to the dwarves where they were grouped together after the initial howl was heard. Gandalf and Radagast were also present. A second howl came and all the dwarves jumped. The warg was near now and didn’t sound happy.

Bilbo drew his sword and searched around for the hunter. He managed to hear a howl seconds before the warg made its appearance and leapt for the king’s head. Thankfully, Thorin had quick reflexes and struck the warg, sending it to the ground with the bald-dwarf finishing the job. Another warg jumped from behind them and nearly reached the bald-dwarf (it was a ‘lin dwarf, he was sure of that) but Kili shot a well-aimed arrow and sent it skidding to the ground. Bifur finished the job.

“Warg-scouts!” Thorin shouted the obvious, “Which means an Orc pack is not far behind.”

“Orc pack,” Bilbo repeated and desperately tried to listen for anymore sounds. If his fire and his smell was back then maybe his acute hearing was back too. If it was he couldn’t tell because Gandalf decided to ground Thorin with questions as to why there was even an orc pack here in the first place.

“Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?”

“No one.” Thorin glared.

“Who did you tell?” Gandalf nearly shouted.

“No one, I swear!”

Bilbo gritted his teeth. There was more to this quest then a simple sneak inside a mountain and steal a jewel. He knew there was dangers on the roads, but the way Gandalf made it sound as if these orcs were specifically looking for Thorin.

“You are being hunted.”

Alright, so these orcs really were looking for Thorin and they certainly weren’t looking for him to share a cup of tea. There was more to this. They haven’t told him the whole story.

“We have to get out of here!”

“We can’t!” Ori appeared from the direction the ponies used to be, “We have no ponies. They bolted!”

Bilbo cheered when he heard that. At least the ponies won’t suffer trying to carry the weight of the dwarves while running for their lives. Wargs are faster than ponies. In the end they would have been all captured. Now the question was how were they going to escape this? He had his fire now, considering his chest still had warmth in it, and the one thing wargs hated the most was fire, but he didn’t want to reveal himself. These dwarves wouldn’t take kindly to knowing he was a dragon, especially when it was a dragon that took their home. They’d chase him away the moment they could and Bilbo wouldn’t be able to finish what he promised Gandalf.

He couldn’t risk using his fire, at least not this close to the dwarves. He needed to be hidden and out of sight.  He looked to Gandalf, “Got a plan under that hat of yours?”

Gandalf glared at him, “You’re the hobbit. Aren’t you quick thinkers?”

“We’re this far east,” Bilbo said, “if we can simply make it.”

“We’ll be caught before we can even escape this forest.”

Bilbo growled, “If only we can distract them.”

“Then I’ll draw them off!” Radagast suddenly said.

“What?” The hobbit blinked, “No, no you mad wizard. They’ll outrun you.”

“He’s right,” Gandalf agreed, “These are Gundabad Wargs.”

“These are Rhosgobel Rabbits,” Radagast countered, “I’d like to see them try!” and off the wizard went, getting on his sleigh.

“No! Gandalf you can’t be agreeing to this.” Bilbo looked between the wizards, concerned that the grey wizard wasn’t going against the idea as he should be.

“Bilbo, Radagast can take care of himself.”

“Yes, but this is a pack of orcs and wargs. Not even you blasted wizards can survive everything!”

“He is not fighting. He is only distracting them.”

“Then let me help,” Bilbo said suddenly and marched to where Radagast was standing. This caused the dwarves he was acquainted with to gasp in concern, more notably Ori, Dori and Kili. Ori made a sound of protest while Bofur said, “Bilbo no!” The hobbit didn’t notice.

Bilbo made to stand on the sleigh but was stopped by Radagast’s hand on one of his shoulders. Radagast looked sternly at him. “I know you mean well, Endis, but you best stay with your group. Keep them safe. Make sure Gandalf doesn’t do anything rash.”

“But you can’t do this alone.” Bilbo argued.

“And I’m not. I have my friends with me. They won’t let me down.” The wizard gestured at the rabbits.

The hobbit backed away from the sleigh and looked at the rabbits, smiling. “Yeah, you have your friends. You lot take care of him, alright?” He said to the rabbits, “keep him safe.”

The rabbits twitched their ears and sniffed the air but otherwise kept quiet. He understood why. These rabbits were a new batch from the old ones that were around when Bilbo lived a few years with Radagast. He had a soft spot for the wizard, much like for Gandalf. The wizard took care of him without expecting anything in return. Both Radagast and Gandalf had done a lot of things for him without expecting anything and now all Bilbo had to offer was returning the favor by any means necessary. In this case helping keep them safe and protected.

If it wasn’t for Radagast, mostly, Bilbo wouldn’t be standing where he was right now. He’d be somewhere in the deepest cavern or in the center of a forest suffering from his malnourishment he caused himself during his attempt to starve and meet death.

He owed a lot to the kind wizard.

His love for animals was known far and wide to those very creatures. For someone like him to take in and care for a dragon, the creature responsible for so many deaths and far worse than any wolves, why, Bilbo didn’t deserve any of it.

The wizard, dare the hobbit say it, was his friend. Why he never thought of Radagast before as one of the few that were his friends he didn’t know, but the wizard was exactly that.

“Take care of yourself,” He told the wizard with true concern.

Radagast winked and smiled, “I always do.” With a shout the rabbits got a move on and they disappeared into the thick bushes.

“We better move!” Gandalf ordered and began herding the dwarves.

Bilbo remained in place and continued to look at the spot Radagast stood. Even when Gandalf and Thorin ordered everyone to get a move on he still refused. One dwarf had to forcibly pull him to keep up with the company, even when they ran out of the forest and were trying to hide behind giant boulders. It wasn’t until the dwarf pulling him stood right in front of his face and shook him did he realize they were running for their lives already.

“Master Baggins! Bilbo! Now’s not the time to space out on us.” Bofur hovered around him and made him duck down by forcibly pushing his shoulders in order to hide.

“Oh,” Bilbo blinked, “right. We’re running. Thank you, Mister Bofur.” He smiled and followed after the dwarves running off behind Gandalf.

The entire chase was a blur to him. His mind wasn’t really there and the only reason why he was still with the company was because he followed the first dwarf he saw like a sheep following a herd. He’d wander away sometimes, needing a dwarf to haul him back into the huddle. On occasions it was done roughly and he nearly fell face first on the ground, but Bilbo didn’t hold it against them. They were running for their lives, he’ll let them live.

They were doing well and he had to give it to them. For dwarves that were noisy and not built to hide they certainly listened well to orders that kept them alive. Of course luck wouldn’t last forever. Sooner or later they’d end up getting found, and they did.

Thank goodness for Gandalf and finding ways of escape at the last minute. Bilbo really needed to learn how he does it.  


	12. Rivendell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elves, Lord Elrond, some history and jealous dwarves.

Rivendell. The first homely place to have gained the title as homely and the still homely place that is considered the last on this side of the land. It’s defined from its beautiful waterfalls running through the ravines and its magical architect and designs that basically said radiance everywhere and made you feel plenty of years younger. To Bilbo, the first time he ever set foot in Rivendell he was captivated. He won’t lie; the place was and is truly beautiful. That all changed when he got to know the residents. Elves, like many other races that disagreed with dragons and were caught in battles against them, didn’t enjoy his presence. He wasn’t sure if the reason why they didn’t enjoy his company was because they knew what he truly was or if it was because they could sense his true nature. The elves never made their reasoning known.

The very lord of Rivendell himself, and his children, were wiser on the situation and tolerated him. It didn’t exactly make up for the ratio of hostile elves, but at least it prevented him getting attacked on sight. Something he was thankful when he and the company entered Rivendell. While the elves weren’t going to outright attack him he still tried preventing a scene from happening by pushing his way behind the huddle of dwarves. With their height difference compared to him he was able to both blend in and hide away.

The guard elves remained standing at attention while another elf he figured as someone of importance because of the circlet he was wearing (Bilbo guessed it was a he, considering the voice the elf spoke with was on the deep side) on his blemish-free forehead. He muttered something to Gandalf and was about to add something else when a horn sounded across from the distance behind them. Bilbo turned in time to see a formation of horses being ridden by elves holding up the flag of Rivendell. He was unable to see beyond the first pair of horses before he was rudely pulled and shoved behind Bofur (of all dwarves). Bifur helped his cousin with the blocking as did Dori as well.

Bilbo mumbled with slight irritation at this. He wasn’t defenseless or weak against the elves. If anything he should be the one pushing these dwarves behind him. Little could be done on the matter. The dwarves each gave a defensive stance against the horses that began circling around them. In retaliation the company held up their weapons and didn’t look to hesitate in using them if it came to violence. Bilbo rolled his eyes at them. Always eager to jump into battle, dwarves were.

The elves circled for a time until they finally stopped. Bilbo spotted Lord Elrond amongst them and watched as the elf greeted Gandalf and explained why he wasn’t present at their arrival. “Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something, or someone, has drawn them near.”

Bilbo could see Gandalf shuffling awkwardly as he responded, “Ah, that may have been us.”

Elrond smirked and studied the group of dwarves. His eyes landed, naturally, to the leader. They greeted each other, or rather Elrond greeted with respect while Thorin bit back with anger. Bilbo sighed and rolled his eyes. Leave it for the king to make enemies with everyone.

“Endis,” Elrond called him, abruptly, catching him off guard, “I had not expected your arrival, but it’s a pleasure to host you again.”

Bilbo walked forward from the small path the dwarves made when he was spoken to and bowed. This action made the dwarves grimace and glare at him and Lord Elrond, especially one Thorin Oakenshield. Bilbo didn’t notice them; his gaze was only on Elrond. He put his best face on. “Elrond, it has been many years. You look well.”

“As do you. Elrohir and Elladan have been asking about you for some time now. It will bring them joy to know you’re visiting.”

Bilbo smiled wide from the information. It warmed his chest knowing the twins were thinking about him from time to time and cared enough to ask about him, “And how are the troublemakers? What are my chances that I can avoid them during my visit?”

Elrond’s lips curled up, “They are doing fairly well, and your chances are slim. The moment they hear of your arrival they will go on a hunt.”

“By any chance will you offer me help when that happens?”

“I can offer you many things, but to aid against my sons is something even I cannot do.” Both of them chuckled and would have continued their playful banter if certain members of the dwarven company hadn’t grown annoyed and began grumbling. Thorin most of all was irritated that the hobbit and the elven lord were getting along so well and were wasting their time.

“Are you both done?” He barked, earning pointed unimpressed looks from them both.

Elrond’s face remained the same as he said in Sindarin, _“You have traveled far, no doubt. I offer your company food, if you accept. You are traveling with them, I presume? The invitation goes to you as well.”_ He said the last part to Bilbo, who understood the dialect, and nodded his head to signal his statement correct.

“What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?” A dwarf with a massive red beard and one Bilbo hadn’t been introduced yet took a step forward, believing they were speaking ill of them. Bilbo openly sighed in annoyance. Was everything an insult to them?

“No, master Gloin, he’s offering you food.” Gandalf corrected.

Not even waiting for the dwarves to respond Bilbo began walking to stand next to Elrond and Gandalf before following inside Rivendell’s walls. The halls of Rivendell was a busy affair, trying to get the dwarves to settle down and get their food and Bilbo pointedly ignoring all the elves giving him lethal stares. Had he mentioned before that the elves hated him for some apparent reason?

The dwarves noticed these stares. Bilbo would’ve been mad if they didn’t. The looks were pretty obvious and only a blind dwarf would have been ignorant. Dori, Nori and Bifur countered these stares with their own, protectively trying to push Bilbo behind them even though they had no idea why the elves seemed so hostile to him. The hobbit allowed it. It was too much hassle putting up with the stares, and soon having to deal with dwarven manners and Thorin’s disrespect with Lord Elrond.

Couldn’t he have a moment of peace?

Bilbo ended up sitting next to the puffy-haired dwarf that was among the first dwarves to arrive in Bag End. Was this one Balin? He couldn’t remember, but if the dwarf was uncomfortable from sitting so close to him the old wise-one was doing a great job hiding it. Gandalf and Elrond were sitting on the edge of the table with Thorin joining them. They were speaking about the elvish swords they found inside the troll cave. Out of curiosity, Bilbo unsheathed his own blade and was about to ask Elrond when the puffy-dwarf stopped him.

“I wouldn’t bother, laddie. Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war.”

Bilbo narrowed his eyes at the ‘laddie’ part. He was without a doubt older than the dwarf. If anyone was a _laddie_ , it was the puffy-dwarf. “And you believe my letter-opener hasn’t seen battle?”

Puffy-dwarf smiled at his ‘letter-opener’ title, “Well…”

Bilbo grinned, “Rest assure, Master Balin was it?” He was relieved when the dwarf nodded at the name, “rest assure that my sword will see through many battles and become known all across the land. If anyone should doubt it a weapon then I will be happy to show them wrong.”

Balin seemed please at his response, “As I once heard, for a weapon to become legendary it must first have a legendary wielder to make the journey.” Their interaction ended here and they both returned back to their food.

To the side he heard Dori fussing over Ori to eat the green food on his plate and the lad flat out refusing to. _Hatchlings_ Bilbo thought, or he should say ‘ _Dwarflings, the lot of them_ ’ because even the oldest were fussing over their lack of meat in their food. He studied the dwarves all around the table as he ate the very green stuff they detested. He spotted Kili not paying much attention to his food and instead was looking at an elven maid playing a harp.

Apparently not all dwarves hated the elves.

As Bilbo watched the elven maid he concluded that not all elves were truly graceful and modest and could do no wrong as they were made out to be. He watched as the elven maid smiled and showed interest to Kili only to look away and speak ill about him in Sindarin with an acquaintance next to her. A smile still on her face with every word.

Bilbo growled on Kili’s behalf, earning looks from those next to him. “Kili, might I make a suggestion?” He said loud enough for the lad to hear.

“Aye?” Kili said, baffled.

“If you have an interests in someone don’t let it be for a shrew of a she-elf who can’t keep her tongue from wagging,” Bilbo said bitterly and glared at the elven maid, “especially one who believes speaking it in another language will excuse her.”

The dwarves who heard him all choked on food or their drinks, and the elven maid herself turned a bright red at his comment. She was clearly embarrassed at having been caught and called out on it.

“To think, elves are called respectable, modest and graceful.” He muttered and continued with his food again, chewing as if he never said a single word in the first place.

All around him everyone was silent. Slowly they returned back to their eating and playing music, the elven maid gone now and the remaining elves bitter at the turn of events. Gandalf and Lord Elrond were able to witness the scene and had opposite reactions. Gandalf locked his hands and covered his face, looking down in disappointment while Lord Elrond raised an eyebrow and curled one side of his lips up. “You have not changed one bit, Endis,” he said to Bilbo, “tell me, do you not believe me or my children to be respectable, modest or graceful?”

Bilbo smirked and looked at him, “Oh no, you and your children are certainly respectable and modest, I’m not exactly sure about graceful.”

“I will make sure to let them know.”

“You wouldn’t.” Elrond didn’t even get a chance to reinforce his threat because two certain elflings made their presence known by marching in and shouting, “Endis!” for the entire gathering to hear.

“Speak of the elflings,” Bilbo muttered before he was hugged from behind by two sets of arms belonging to Elrohir and Elladan, nearly pulling him off his seat. They talked over one another.  

“Endis! You truly are here!”

“We came as soon as we heard!”

“You never gave us a notice you were visiting.”

“Or that you will ever visit again!”

“For how long are you visiting?”

“Have you come to visit for a reason?”

“When are you leaving?”

“And do you need company for when you leave?”

“Boys!” Elrond interrupted, “give Endis a chance. He has traveled far and needs rest. I’m sure he will entertain you once he’s back on his feet.”

Bilbo shot him a traitorous look. Once the twins were told something they make it so. There was no escaping now.

“Endis you must tell us what you’ve been up to these past years!” Bilbo was sure Elrohir said.

“And what you’re up to now!” Maybe Elladan said.

“Are you on your way to save a town?”

“Can we come along?”

“Alright! Alright, settle down you two.” Bilbo said, shaking their hugging arms off of him, “I promise to entertain you, but after dinner. You know how us _hobbits_ hate missing a meal.”

The twins shared identical grins, nodding in understanding, “We know well! Can’t keep our _fiery_ _hobbit_ from his food or else we’ll regret it! We shall go then, but we keep you to your promise! Don’t forget, Endis, or we won’t forgive you,” and off the two went. Disappearing the way they first arrived. Elrond, Gandalf and Bilbo shook their heads at their clowning and laughed.

“They certainly haven’t changed,” Bilbo said with a smile.

“Not one bit,” Gandalf added, and they laughed together again.

The dwarves and surrounding elves didn’t laugh for they found no humor in it. The elves for the most part didn’t seem to care, but the dwarves all looked on with mixed expressions of irritation and hurt. Bilbo didn’t pay them much attention; his focus set on laughing along with his friend and acquaintance elf, and so didn’t notice how Ori, Bofur and Kili were giving him looks of wounded animals being abandoned by their only hope. Dori and Nori looked on with envy while Bombur, Fili and Bifur tried to look as if the laughing didn’t bother them. The rest of the dwarves looked at him in annoyance at getting along so well with the elf, especially Thorin.

What Bilbo failed to realize was that he was openly laughing in the presence of the dwarven company for the first time since they arrived in Bag End and started the journey. Sure, he chuckled a bit with Gandalf and smiled every once in a while, but all the emotions they knew of him were serious, bad-tempered and basically someone who just didn’t want to be in the presence of dwarves, as they guessed from watching him continue to laugh with the wizard _and_ the elf. To think it was _elves_ that had the honor of this side of the hobbit, the twin elves included, and all the dwarves could get out of Bilbo most of the time was a small smile, glares or feral-like grins that weren’t meant to be happy at all. It made the dwarves feel unworthy, especially since the hobbit was expressing his laughter in front of them and yet it was not meant for them.

What have these elves done to deserve the hobbit’s merriment?

If the dwarves had been present during Elrond’s and Bilbo’s talk after the elven lord had asked for a moment of the hobbit’s time then they would have gotten their answer, but they weren’t.

 After the meal and after explaining Thorin’s map and the moon runes, Elrond asked for a few minutes. Bilbo agreed and followed him down hallways until they found a room that was free of curious eyes and sharp elven ears. The sun was gone from the sky and the only light source that illuminated the room was from a small candle and the moon’s rays.

Lord Elrond didn’t outright ask what was on his mind. Instead, he walked and stared out the only window the room had been made with. The room looked abandoned with one desk covered by dusty scrolls and no ink bottles. Bilbo stared curiously at a piece of string hanging from a green drape on the wall and waited until the elven lord was ready.

“Endis,” Elrond started after a while, “it is evident Thorin and his company are on a quest to reclaim their mountain and you are aiding them. My question for you, are you joining them by choice or did Mithrandir bully you into it?”

Out of anything Elrond could have questioned him on that was the last thing Bilbo had expected, “Could I get away if I said possibly both?”

Elrond looked back to him, one side of his lip curled up from his response, “Any other time, perhaps, but not this one. Did our friend promise you something?”

Bilbo sighed, “He promised me this quest might have the answer to my curse.”

A humming noise came out of the elf as he thought it over, “Perhaps.”

“Do you believe this quest has the answer?”

“I cannot be sure. I have seen a vision involving you. From the moment you stepped foot on the road you have set in motion your destiny.”

“My _destiny_?” Bilbo repeated with doubt.

“Your destiny and your fate. Already you are changed, Endis. For the better or for the worse I cannot say, but you have set in motion things we cannot stop.”

Bilbo snorted at the far-fetched information and pinched the bridge of his hobbit nose, “All this because I agreed to join on a quest to reclaim a mountain?”

“Perhaps this quest is more than what we believe.”

“Yes, but what could it possibly be? From what I can tell all it involves is reclaiming a stone from under a dragon’s nose. If possible also kill the dragon. That doesn’t seem so important or life-changing, and it only includes dwarves. It’s not like the entire land is a part of it.”

“You may involve them in the near future, possibly.” Elrond studied him for a moment, “These dwarves, I’m not sure what part they hold in your destiny, but I know they will be responsible for your fate. Tell me, have certain skills of yours returned?” The end wasn’t so much as a question but a statement meant to show he knew Bilbo regained some of his dragon perks.

Bilbo shot him a suspicious look, “Are you saying these dwarves are responsible for my fire returning? They haven’t even done anything.”

Elrond gave him an amused smile, “Or maybe they’ve done more than you know. There’s also the possibility that they are continuing from what others started.”

“From what others-? You know something, don’t you? What have these dwarves done?” One thing he found irritating about Elrond was, for the most part, he was exactly like Gandalf when it came to things they knew but refused to outright reveal.

“All I can say is allow the dwarves to continue what they are doing, and don’t fight them.”

“Don’t fight them? How can I when I don’t even know what I’m _not_ supposed to fight against?” Bilbo was growing irritated. There was practically two Gandalfs. He could barely tolerate one.

“Don’t fight against what you hate the most.”

Bilbo threw his arms up, “You realize I hate many things, and these supposed small clues and words of wisdom don’t really do much for my nerves. Why can’t you or Gandalf just say what you mean to say? I’m not patient and I’m not amused.”

Elrond inclined his head, “I will not say I understand your frustration, but if I reveal too much it might cause more harm than good. Do not think of it. Let it come naturally, otherwise you will end up fighting it.”

“But let _what_ happen naturally? Can’t you just tell me already?”

“No because you’ll only think about it, and it can’t be forced.”  The elven lord walked forward and kneeled down in front of the hobbit, placing a hand on his shoulder. He still towered over the small creature, but it wasn’t a threatening or intimidating kind of towering. It was gentle, almost as if handling a long-time friend being reunited over many passed years.

“My friend,” Elrond was sincere when he said this, “in the end of your destiny you will gain what you most desire. There will be others that will have a hand in it, but the outcome will be all your choice.”

“Friend?” Bilbo questioned. Of the few times he ever spoke with Elrond or visited Rivendell never once did the elven lord ever refer to him as a friend until now. What had brought it up? “I find it difficult to believe you consider me a friend.”

“I consider you a friend to myself and a friend to my family. My children are fond of you and regard you with high respect. You have done so much for us and for the land, even if it was probably not your intent, but it cannot go unnoticed. You fought by our side and became an ally.”

Bilbo knew what Elrond was referring to. He was speaking about the time he aided in the battle against a powerful enemy that threatened the land. He didn’t know every detailed behind it because really he was only doing it for Gandalf. The old wizard had asked for his help and somewhere along his pleading he might have promised the sacrifice Bilbo had been searching for. Gandalf didn’t explain much about the battle itself. All he wanted was for Bilbo to slash and kill enemies, using his durable body as an advantage in the war.

Bilbo had agreed to it and slayed many orcs, wargs, plenty of evil men, a few trolls and a fair number of other creatures he didn’t bother to remember. It was a sight to see, a small hobbit wielding a large sword that he had to hold with both his hands and no combat training. He just slashed what he thought were enemies, jumped and stabbed the large sized creatures and used his small size to confuse the giant half-wits of trolls to gain victory. That was all he did the whole time and only stopped when the enemies retreated and the battle win was announced.

He gained nothing in the end and didn’t get the sacrifice he wanted, but according to Gandalf he had saved many lives. Thousands if he counted. That alone should have been enough. It was, for the wizard. For Bilbo it was a minor annoyance and a waste of time.

Bilbo would admit now that aiding in the battle wasn’t a complete loss. He helped stopped some evil being from poisoning the lands and gave new generations a chance to live, especially one hobbit by the name of Belladonna.

“I became an ally because Gandalf asked.” Bilbo said, plainly.

“You could have said no, but you didn’t.”

The hobbit shrugged. He didn’t have anything to fight against that. He helped for his own reasons and yet agreed to help a friend. There was too much reading into his actions.

“Endis, have I ever thanked you for helping in the battle?”

“No. No one has, except for Gandalf, but seeing as he asked me to help in the first place he was kind of expected to.”

Elrond smirked, “Our wizard friend is expected to do many things, but not you. You were forced to take this form against your will, but all your choices are your own, even when you don’t realize it. You helped and saved lives and I thank you for that. You are an ally and a friend, and should you ever need assistance I will not hesitate.”

“Elrond, this kind of friendship isn’t just given freely or so suddenly. What have you seen that brought this up?” There was more that wasn’t being said. Elrond must have seen something very important to suddenly state friendship and offer aid. Something changed his thought of Bilbo, for while Elrond was kind and respectable to him he never looked to be trusting of the hobbit. The elven lord was just as suspicious as all the other elves were.

“I have seen a dragon that will conquer his own and gain what he desires while also becoming a hero. I only have pieces of the image, but I know enough. You are a unique being, Endis, and I only hope you have faith to trust me, and consider me a friend.”

Bilbo swallowed as a warm feeling bubbled in his chest, “I consider you a friend. Though, that thought might easily change if you leave me alone with those twin tyrants for the remainder of our visit.”

Elrond stood up and barked a laugh, “I said I will not hesitate to give assistance, but please don’t ask for the impossible.”

Bilbo joined in the laughter, “And here I thought you had sight to know everything. Can’t you tell me how to avoid them?”

“I see sights, Endis, I can’t pull miracles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! All the kudos and the bookmarks and the comments! I have never had so many. Thank you so much!  
> Now I really am nervous. I hope you enjoyed this new chapter! Expect more jealous dwarves and finally an interaction with Thorin besides just glaring and bickering at each other next chapter!


	13. An Elven Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealous dwarves part 2 and a four-legged friend is back.

When Elrond said he couldn’t aid him against Elladan and Elrohir he really meant it. The twin elves managed to draw circles around Bilbo’s many attempts to casually seem busy or out of the picture to prevent getting cornered, but they were foiled every time. At least the two weren’t making him do physical activities. Most of the doings they wanted consisting of telling them stories and answering curious questions. On the rare occasions they asked him to join in their mischief. Other than that it was mild interactions that always involved them asking questions like:

“Endis! Care to join us on a hunt for desserts?”

“In the library again? What are you reading?”

“Tell the story of your first battle again!”

“Can you tell us about the villages you saved?”

“What happened during the festival in Gondor again? How did you take the men out?”

“Have you got new stories of any adventures?”

“Endis! You seem different. Has something happened in your journey?”

“What is your relationship with the dwarves?”

“Are you replacing us?”

“Are you making new friends?”

“Did you know the young dwarves keep following you around?”

“They look a bit envious.”

Bilbo blinked and looked at them in confusion when they said the last two. “What?”

The brother he figured was Elladan from the way his eyebrows slanted further down compared to Elrohir pointed to a doorway. There wasn’t anyone present, meaning whoever was momentarily there were now hiding away. Bilbo blinked in doubt but walked to the opening anyway. He wouldn’t believe there were dwarves following him around unless he saw them himself. Why would any dwarf even be curious about him in the first place?

Peeking through the doorway he was surprised to find Elladan was right about the dwarves. Fili, Kili and Ori were pressed against the wall and tried to look innocent when they realized they were caught. Bilbo spared a moment to look at them in confusion before snapping back his serious face.

“Shouldn’t you three be with the others?”

The three shuffled their feet, shyly. “Well…” Kili started.

“We were curious about what you were doing.” Ori explained.

“And we wanted to make sure the elves weren’t doing anything to you.” Fili said.

“Doing anything to me? What would these two even do? Besides annoy me to no end.” Bilbo looked unimpressed at their explanation.

“You can’t trust them! Elves are sneaky and might run off with you. Thorin would never forgive us if we allowed elves to steal our burglar.” Fili shot a suspicious look to the room Bilbo came out of.

From behind the hobbit the voices of Elladan and Elrohir came through, “You hear that, brother? They’re talking about us!”

“Talking about us as if we were common criminals and believing we will steal Endis from them.” The two heads of the twins appeared through the door.

“How can we steal something that already belongs to us?”

“If anything _they_ are the ones stealing Endis from us.”

“We are not!” Kili argued, “ _Bilbo_ belongs to us!”

“Since when?” Elrohir countered, “ _Endis_ has been ours long before you met him.”

“And how long ago have you met him?” Elladan asked with a smirk, looking eager to prove a point.

“W-we, uh…” Kili was stuck. The dwarves had only met Bilbo about a week, nearly two now. That wasn’t actually very long.

Bilbo did double takes between the three dwarves and the two elves. He was baffled that they were arguing over him. No one had ever disputed about whom he belonged to and spoke about him like an object, battling over ownership. Honestly, why were they even fighting in the first place? He belonged to no one and had his own free will. Distracted about the situation, Bilbo never noticed Kili’s use of ‘Bilbo’ instead of ‘Master Baggins’ and the hobbit never corrected him about it.

“A week?” Elladan repeated after Kili answered his question, “that’s not very long for you to start claiming him as yours. We’ve known Endis for years! If he were to belong to anyone, rightfully, it would be us!”

“Yeah, well, Bilbo is traveling with us right now. Our claim is stronger than yours!” Kili refused to give up.

“But!” Elrohir nearly shouted, “does Endis even wish to belong to you in the first place?”

Bilbo was put on the spotlight when the elves and dwarves looked to him for his answer. He felt betrayed that Elrohir would put him in this situation and grimaced as Kili gave him that wounded animal look when he didn’t answer instantly. He looked at them all awkwardly. Did they really expect him to give an answer to an idiotic question like that?

As more time passed Ori and Fili joined their companion and now Bilbo was outnumbered. The looks they were giving him were murderous and the urge to sooth them grew in his chest.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Lads, I’m not an object to fight over. You can’t honestly expect me to answer if I wish to be owned by you. I do have my own rights.”

“Of course you do!” Kili agreed, “but, it’s just- Would you rather be owned by these elves instead of us?”

“I’d rather be owned by Bag End so the only obligation I’d have would be sitting in front of my fireplace with a cup of tea in hand. At least Bag End wouldn’t ask me silly questions like these. Now, if you five don’t mind I’ll go and take a quick walk.” Bilbo moved and walked down a hallway. He was free for a moment, but the determined youngsters that they were the two elves and three dwarves began following after him. They took a side and tried getting as close as they could to both lay a claim and not anger Bilbo.

“Don’t any of you have something better to do than follow after me?” The hobbit asked, exasperated.

“We just happen to be heading this way,” Elladan said.

Fili snorted, “Of course you are. It just so happens this way leads to where the Company is.”

Bilbo stopped, “Is that so?” and made a quick turn to another direction, “In that case I’ll be heading this way. Do say hello to Dori for me.”

“What-? But, Bilbo-” The change was so abrupt that the elves and dwarves were left standing awkwardly where the hobbit made the turn. Now, unless they wanted the other to know they were really following after Bilbo, they couldn’t head the same direction.

Bilbo didn’t look back and continued at a faster pace. He was almost at the free. Now if he could only make the turn to get out of sight and with luck he could lose them for, what he prayed, was the entire day. Of course he shouldn’t put all his faith on luck. He was known to have the worst luck around (having a curse placed on him and reduced to a weakling was proof enough). He focused forward, not paying a single mind at those he left behind. He made the turn and cheered when he caught a glimpse to where he just came from and found the five still standing awkwardly together, glaring at each other as if blaming his departure on the other’s fault. Bilbo smiled because, really, how more foolish could they be?

“ _Hatchlings_ ,” he muttered and reached a room that expanded and opened to the outside sky.

Taking a deep breath he caught the smell of fresh water and felt the coolness of the water droplets flying through the sky and landing on his skin. He was right next to a small waterfall that fell from an opening on the roof and landed on a structure, gliding down on its marble surface and forming a fountain on the ground. The structure was a statue of an elf. It held two arms out forward and had a hand over the other, as if offering a gift. The eyes of the statue were looking at him unmoving and soulless and yet he could almost feel the judging they were giving.

What a feat. The elves could accomplish great things, but to be capable of creating a structure from stone that seemed just as alive as they were was truly something. Living or not, any elf could sense what he was and what he was capable of. Whether they were made from flesh or from stone they still judged.

“You treat me just as your living kin do,” Bilbo muttered at the thing in a low tone, “am I that terrible that even stone sense it?”

The statue didn’t answer, naturally, but the eyes seemed to have shifted and were now looking curiously at him. Bilbo glared at it, willing for it to crumble. “What do your kin sense that has them so cautious? What do you have that dwarves and men are so oblivious from?”

Bilbo was truly curious. He wanted to know what elves really had that gave them the worry they knew they needed when he was close. It couldn’t be their hearing or their sight. To everyone he was just a regular looking hobbit that always had the sound of defenseless and unable to handle the harshness of the world.

“What do you see that others cannot?”

He jumped when he heard the footsteps of someone coming from behind. He surprised himself when he found Lord Elrond a fair distance away and walking towards him. Never before had he heard someone from that far away as a hobbit. This was the first in a long time.

Elrond finally reached him and inclined his head, “Endis.”

“Lord Elrond,” Bilbo bowed his own, “Is there something you need from me?”

“No, not something I need.” Elrond walked to stand by his side, looking up at the statue, “forgive me for intruding, but I couldn’t help overhearing your question.”

Bilbo looked back to the statue, “I take it your elven ears prevented me from any privacy?”

“I’m afraid so. Thankfully, I was the only elf around to hear.”

“I’m not exactly sure how that is thankful.”

Elrond smiled, “My friend, tell me, why do you ask such questions? Has anyone bothered you during your stay?”

“No, no nothing like that, but you’d have to be blind not to notice the stares your people give me. Even the dwarves noticed, and that’s saying something.”

“Yes, it saddens me that they do such a thing, but even I cannot ask them to stop from acting on their worries. They do not understand, and they fear.”

Bilbo looked at him, “Do they know?”

“No. They can sense something abnormal on you, but to solve what you were at one point is nearly impossible, unless told.”

“Nearly impossible?” Bilbo smirked, “I take it you’re talking about Gandalf and Radagast and yourself.”

“Do not forget Lady Galadriel and Sarum-”

“No! Don’t say his name. The moment you say his name he appears. I’m serious!” Bilbo nearly shouted when Elrond gave him an amused look at his statement. “Damn wizards always appear out of nowhere, and he specifically appears when his name is mentioned.”

“I agree he does appear as if summoned, but could it be you don’t wish to hear his name because you and him do don’t agree.”

The hobbit growled, “Foolish wizard wouldn’t know danger if it knocked on his front door. I still don’t understand why _he_ is the leader of your council. Something about him puts my nerves on edge.” That was putting it mildly. The blasted white wizard always managed to send cold chills down his spine each time he was present. The wizard was not right and always looked to know more than he led on. It was nothing like Gandalf. When Gandalf knew things he openly expressed it, letting others know whether they were good or bad. However, when the white wizard, Saruman, knew something he did everything in his power to keep it hidden, even when it was quite obvious he knew, and did nothing to reassure anyone. Whether it was good or bad everyone deserved to know what they were dealing with.

“I’m sure Mithrandir would agree with you.”

Bilbo knew firsthand Gandalf agreed with him. The hobbit wasn’t one for _not_ speaking his mind. Anything he thought he made sure to let everyone know. When he revealed what he truly thought of the white wizard he was surprised to find Gandalf felt the same way. The grey wizard suspected something wrong, but since Saruman was the leader Gandalf couldn’t do anything, outright, against him. Usually it led to Gandalf doing things quietly without the white wizard’s knowledge, and that meant, more often than not, Bilbo would tag along to help. Gandalf needed all the help he could get if his own council leader wasn’t going to lift a finger.

“Well, besides speaking to me about wizards was there anything you truly came for? Perhaps you have news? Or did our pristine dwarf king do something to insult you and are kicking us out as punishment?”

Elrond actually laughed at the thought of Thorin doing something so rash that it earned him early departure from Rivendell, “Nothing so drastic. Though, I suspect he might lose his temperament soon. I promised to allow you here until you are ready and well-rested, but I may have to act soon if I wish to save my wine from their grasps.”

Bilbo nodded in agreement, “Dwarves are gluttons when it comes to drinks. I’m surprised your wine still stands.”

“For now. I confess, Endis, I came for a reason but keep getting distracted with our talk. It has been many years, and I hoped to mend what I failed to do so from our last encounter.”

“There was nothing to mend, Lord Elrond.” The hobbit said plainly and looked to the statue again with growing interest.

“And that was the failure. You had done so much by that point that expressing anything but friendship was unacceptable. While your past self might have rejected my hand I still should have offered it.”

“I wouldn’t have rejected it. I would’ve probably accepted and forgotten it right after.” There was amusement in Bilbo’s tone.

“That’s all I could ask. I understand that your nature never gave friendship a second thought, or even a chance. It is true that you hate it even.”

Bilbo chuckled, “Yes it’s true that I hate the thought of friendship, more so starting it. All that hassle and letting others know things about you,” he shivered, “too much effort.”

“Clearly you are far above having friends,” Elrond said, sarcastically, “I might have to tell Mithrandir that, and Elladan and Elrohir and Arwen as well. Do give friends a chance. You’ll be surprise what it can offer.”

“You wouldn’t dare, and I have Gandalf, Radagast and now you. I’ve seen enough on what friendship can offer; headaches and a lot of secrets. By the way, how is Arwen? I haven’t seen her since arriving.”

“She’s doing very well. She’s visiting Lady Galadriel, wanted to spend time with her.”

“Ah, yes her grandmother. It’s a shame; I would have liked to greet her before we leave.”

“Have you been informed about Estel?” The elven lord suddenly asked, “I would think my two sons would have mentioned him at one point, but they are too easily distracted. No doubt they wanted to hear everything involving you.”

Bilbo’s ears perked up at the information. This was new news and a new name. “I’m afraid both Elladan and Elrohir failed to mention anything about this Estel character. Who is he to you and them?”

“He is my son and their brother. Not by blood, mind you, but still as such.”

“Ah, so you took him in under you wing. He’s not a dwarf by any chance? That would be a sight to see.”

Elrond smirked, “No. He is from the race of men, but is just as elvish as my family, with the inheritance of a beard no doubt. He is traveling with Arwen as well. He will be disappointed to know you came to visit after hearing so many stories about you from Elrohir and Elladan. They have made you into a grand hero that will fly through the skies and rain fire upon your enemies. He is looking forward to seeing you do it.”

The hobbit whistled at the expectation, “That is a lot of belief on me. He will be more than disappointed to learn I can’t do any of those things. I’m not exactly sure I want to greet the lad if those two are filling his head with ideas.”

Elrond remembered and finally said what he came to say in the first place, “Speaking of which, there is someone here I suspect is due to you that you might want to greet. They came in a group together and came straight here covered in saddles.”

Bilbo’s ears perked up, instantly. His chest filled with hope, “Do they happen to be four-legged hooved creatures covered with fur?”

“If by that you mean ponies, then yes. They came together, led by one pony before your arrival. They’re already cared for and waiting for their owners to return for them.”

“Take me to them,” Bilbo quickly said, “they are still here, right?”

“Of course. Allow me to lead you to them.” Elrond walked and Bilbo followed. They were careful to take hallways that were the most deserted to avoid any curious on-lookers. Bilbo was thankful about that. The last thing he wanted was for a dwarf to follow them right to the ponies and ask what in the world they were doing in Rivendell and how they got here in the first place.

Elrond took him to the bottom of Rivendell’s land and to the back where the stones and waters were plenty and nearly took up all the sight. There was a wide berth space that formed an opening with stone covering to form a crescent that made it look like a wide-door cave. It was grand and looked to be the perfect hiding spot for those who didn’t wish to be seen. Inside the cave-like structure Bilbo found those he hoped were still alive, and in the front was the one pony he was really glad to see.

The hobbit didn’t even cross the opening before a loud, “Bilbo!” was heard and out came Myrtle running. When she reached him Bilbo wrapped his hands around her snout and petted her before wrapping his arms around her long neck. “Myrtle, I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Myrtle pressed her snout against his back and squeezed him against her. “It’s all thanks to you that we are. Thank you, Bilbo. I’m glad to see you’re safe, but the dwarves?”

“Fine, all fine. I told you I wasn’t going to let anything happen to them.”

Myrtle snorted, “So you did.”

Pulling back, Bilbo looked behind her and counted the ponies within his sight, “Is everyone here?”

“Yes, we managed to avoid the hunters just in time. Any longer we would have gotten caught.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Bilbo pulled back and ran a hand softly over her neck, “Elrond and his kin have been treating you with care, right?”

“Do you not believe me, Endis?” Elrond said with mirth.

The pony whinnied, nodding furiously, “Oh yes. They did a fantastic job calming us. They made us feel safe and secure. Can you please tell him thank you for us?”

Bilbo looked to the elven lord, “Myrtle and her kin wish to thank you for taking them in.”

Elrond bowed his head, “You are quite welcome. Though, I wonder why ponies would come to Rivendell for aid in the first place.”

“That was probably me,” The hobbit’s lips curled, “Orcs were hunting us with a pack of wargs. The ponies would have never survived, nor us if we relied on them. To give us both a chance I set them loose and ordered them to make their way here. I hoped you with your kind nature you wouldn’t reject them, and I’m happy I was right.”

“You took a risky chance, all of you, but seeing you all alive proves you made the correct choice. Now that they are here, however, what will be your next course of action? Will you want the ponies back in your company’s care?”

Bilbo thought it over briefly. Knowing that Thorin was being hunted for some apparent reason didn’t give him high hopes that the ponies could make the end of the journey alive. The possibilities were low and it would be nothing but cruel to take and lead them to their deaths.

“Oh no. There is too much danger out in the roads and I will not take them knowing full well we’ll just end up throwing them off a cliff.” He looked to Elrond, remembering the promise the lord made, “I know I have no right to ask for aid so soon, but for their sake could you keep them hidden and safe? Once we leave you may do what you want with them. Trade them with the locals or sell them to the hobbits in the Shire. I know firsthand those stubborn hobbits need more ponies to help with their land or trades but they are fearful of going out of their homes.”

Elrond nodded and showed no sign that he was offended by the request, “I’ll see to it personally. If not, I’m sure my sons will be more than happy to do so. They always want reasons to explore out of Rivendell.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Bilbo returned his gaze to Myrtle, “Is that alright with you and your kin? To allow Elrond to trade or sell you with the hobbits?”

“We do not mind,” Myrtle nudged him, “so long as they don’t force us up through mountains we will go willingly.”

“Well hobbits are fearful things and most likely won’t ever leave the land of the Shire. There are no mountains there but a lot of hills and gardens. Hopefully, they treat you better than the dwarves.”

“Thank you, Bilbo.”

“You’re quite welcome, Myrtle.”

Bilbo spent a fair amount of time with Myrtle after Elrond excused himself to take care of lord business. The hobbit and pony didn’t exactly talk the entire time but they did sit and enjoyed the silent company. On occasions they would nudge and shove each other playfully. Bilbo would run his fingers through Myrtle’s mane and Myrtle would nip and nuzzle Bilbo’s arms. They were affectionate actions and the hobbit found he enjoyed the feeling it brought. It was a warm interaction that made him feel cared for, almost the same as when Belladonna would hug and sit so close that their shoulders touched. Of course Bilbo couldn’t stay with the pony forever. Staying for too long could risk the chance of others looking for him, especially the elven twins who were out to spend every minute with him before he left. Along with the twins came the three dwarves who were apparently following him for his safety. If the dwarves found him and spotted the ponies than they would inform the others, thus making the company reclaim their ponies and take them out on the roads, leading to the ponies fated deaths.

Oh no, Bilbo couldn’t and wouldn’t allow that to happen.

When the sun reached a particular spot on the sky he deemed it late enough to get a move on back to elvish and dwarvish social life. He bid Myrtle goodbye and promised her to visit again before he left, whenever that day might have been. He retraced his steps back through the hallways he took and found himself back in the room where Elrohir and Elladan first mentioned the three dwarves following him. Deciding he didn’t want to run into any dwarves or elves just yet he sat on the nearest chair, leaned back on it and closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet from the empty room. Oh to be back in Bag End right now in front of the fireplace with the cushioned chair he favored. The woodened chair he sat on wasn’t nearly as comfortable and the room not as warm as Bag End. It was drafty and windy and humid.

Deciding to try and warm up a bit to make the image of Bag End seem more real Bilbo began rumbling his chest. He cheered when he found he _could_ rumble his chest. The vibration the rumbling caused made the warmth intensify. This was a trick dragons used when they found themselves cold or were simply content and wanted the warmth to wrap around them like a blanket. 

Bilbo was both a bit cold and very content when he did this, so the noise he created was particularly loud on this time. The heat his chest created felt delightful and if he wasn’t currently in Elrond’s home with the possibility of someone walking in on him high he would have released a breath or two of fire.

That still didn’t stop the noise he made from being heard.

The last person he expected to ever make an appearance walked through the door and entered the room when he heard a purring like noise radiate from inside. It was Thorin, the dwarven king himself, and he found it odd that the room was warmer than the hallway he just walked out of but at the same time didn’t think much of it, believing it to be a natural occurrence because he didn’t know nor cared for elven architecture. The noise, however, did catch his attention and when he found its source he was bewildered.

“Halfling, what are you doing?”

Bilbo stopped his rumbling and stood straight on the chair. His eyes snapped to Thorin and was shocked that he never heard the dwarf walk in the room at all. His surprise quickly changed to annoyance. “I have a name, dwarf, and what does it look like I’m doing? I’m sitting. Am I not allowed to sit in your presence?”

Thorin glared, “I meant what are you doing that is causing that noise. It sounded like you were purring.”

Bilbo made a noise at the indignity of the statement, and without his knowledge his cheeks gained color, “I was not purring!”

Thorin’s lips looked to be curling up but the dwarf forced them down. The attempt made his face appear like he was grimacing, “I know purring when I hear it, and that, _Master Baggins_ , was purring.”

“Well, _Master Oakenshield_ , I say you are demented because that was not purring!” The hobbit looked away and crossed his arms. He waited for the dwarf to grow bored and leave the room, but Thorin had other ideas.

“Is that something hobbits can do? Purr when you are happy?”

Bilbo gritted his teeth, “I am not going to answer that.”

“Why ever not? Is it a secret that hobbits refuse to share, or are you simply embarrassed that I caught you doing it?” If Bilbo didn’t know any better he could swear he heard mirth in Thorin’s voice.

“Don’t you have others to bother and annoy?”

“I was making my way there but when I heard the purring I was curious.”

Bilbo growled, stood up and marched straight to Thorin, stopping just inches away from the dwarf’s face. The dwarf was a bit taller than himself, so Bilbo had to look up and Thorin down. They were almost touching nose to nose and if any of them made a small movement they would have collided. Bilbo glared and looked straight at Thorin’s intensely blue eyes. The dwarf king stared right back, noting the hobbit’s green eyes that reminded him of fresh grass that started softly before swirling and changing into different shades of intensity with every warm breath the hobbit took. Had the halfling’s eyes always been that color?

“I. Was. Not. _Purring_.” The hobbit snarled with the sound of murder.

Thorin blinked before finally letting himself smirk, “Of course you weren’t. Surely it was the chair you were sitting on doing all the purring. Do not worry, Master Baggins, you’re secret is safe with me, unless of course, you wish for me to inform everyone in the company.”

“If you value your beard I suggest you go back to them.”

The king’s smile only grew. Clearly he was enjoying finally having something over the hobbit and something embarrassing too! What a stroke of luck. “Then I shall leave you to _purr_ your time away. Good day, Master Baggins.” With a mocking bow of his head Thorin walked out of the room just in time before Bilbo decided the quest didn’t need a king and burn him on the spot.  

“Damn blasted dwarves!” Bilbo growled and nearly grabbed the chair he was sitting on to throw it across the room. Elrond wouldn’t appreciate the destruction so he kept his anger at bay, but oh was it temping.

“I swear, I’m going to kill one of these dwarves one day, and not on accident.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing down the Beorn's Hall portion of the journey and need a bit of help to get most of the dwarves involved. What would you guys like to see happen? Bilbo interact with who and how? Also, it doesn't have to be only Bilbo~! Maybe some dwarves express what they think of him to each other. 
> 
> You don't have to put anything but I'm curious on what you want to read. 
> 
> (P.s. If you're wondering about other couples besides Thorin and Bilbo, I don't think I'll be adding any. I have cement pairings that some of you may like and others not and to keep everyone happy and peaceful I'm not even going to head that direction. We're all here for Bagginshield anyway!)


	14. Jealous Dwarven Logic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naked dwarves, jealous dwarves part 3 and Bagginshield interaction.

Bilbo hated dwarves. They were rude, lacked all respectability, had no other care but for their own and they were by far the worst image created when put together naked and bathing by a public fountain! He had to cover his eyes the moment he got a full sight of Bombur’s full moon and Nori’s pride.

The images burned in his head and refused to disappear. He placed a hand over his eyes the instant he saw and looked away in an attempt to save himself. He tried thinking of other things to distract his mind but they were all in vein. Each time he thought up the image of a tree Nori would be standing on one of the branches. He tried thinking of a house but Bombur would block up the window with his bum, and the times he desperately attempted for the sight of food on a table the entire company (minus Thorin and Balin) would be sitting on the chairs and have plates displayed as they modeled.

“By my fire! I’ll never be the same again after this.” He hissed and walked back inside Rivendell’s halls but with his eyes temporarily blind it proved harder than it should have. Luckily, there was a bench he collided with and sat himself down. Unluckily, the benched was placed in a manner that only allowed him to face the sight of the fountain.

He never dared open his eyes again and forced his head down. With his somewhat sharpened ears he heard every movement the dwarves made, splashing about and shouting battle cries. At one point he heard one of the dwarves cry for another to climb on their back and start a match. Bilbo didn’t want to know how the match worked.

For a dragon you must understand that something like this never once happened to Bilbo, at least from Bilbo’s point of view. When he first transformed into a hobbit he was, what the race of two-legs called, naked. Clothes were never something that worried dragons. They had scales after all, and if some pompous buffoon cared and was brave enough to try and dress one, well, they would never see the light of day again.

The first time Bilbo laid eyes on his naked hobbit body all he thought was, it was cold. The idea of clothes never crossed him until he walked into his very first two-legged race (he couldn’t remember if it was traveling men or dwarves. He couldn’t even remember if the first set of clothes even fit him) and they made it a scandal to find him walking around dressed like _‘the day he was born.’_ He was given clothes because apparently the sight of a naked and tiny creature was something to pity. Afterwards, he learned that clothes were an essential thing and it was improper for others to see you without them. Why exactly Bilbo never understood, but overtime it became normal to him to always see others covered with fabrics of different styles that he never imagined them to have the ability to get naked as well. And yet, here the dwarves were, as bare as what he was taught absolutely scandalous and swimming around without a care in the world.

Dwarves just threw his entire thought process out the window and he didn’t appreciate it. And as the splashing of another body landing on the water echoed through he snapped back to his situation. He heard soggy footsteps as they walked nearer and prayed with all his fire that the dwarf coming had wisdom enough _not_ to touch him in any way or make conversation that required eye-contact.

“Bilbo! What are you doing just sitting there? Come join us!” He was positive the voice belonged to Bofur, if that heavy accent had anything to do with it.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to say no to this one,” Bilbo said to the ground.

“Why ever not? You aren’t shy, are you?”

Bofur wasn’t alone and the sounds of another set of wet footsteps joined them, “What’s this? Master Baggins too shy to join us?” Bilbo had only heard his voice a couple of times but he was sure it was Nori speaking.

“Aye,” Bofur agreed, “too shy to even face us right now.”

“Come now, we’re all the same. No need for any of that, unless hobbits are different on that department.”

“Or you’re secretly a _lass_ hobbit traveling the lands in disguise as a _lad_ hobbit. In which case we understand why you’d prefer not to join us.”

“I am not a lass,” Bilbo muttered and hoped they would leave already.

“Oh good,” Bofur sighed, “I was worried we might have pushed the boundaries.”

“Well if you’re a lad then you have nothing to be afraid about! Maybe you need the extra push. We can help you.” Nori said.

“What’s your thought about throwing Bilbo over with the others, Nori? That’ll help him fight his shyness!”

“Nothing works better than firsthand experience.”

Bilbo growled and raised a hand without moving his head, “If any of you so much as lays a finger on me I won’t hesitate to get my letter-opener and cut off your precious features. And I’m not talking about your beards. I’m sure the dwarves will find joy in having two new dwarrowdams.”

Both dwarves made an upset, hissing noise and took three steps back from him. They couldn’t see but under Bilbo’s hair he was grinning at their reaction. “Do go back to the others before I make it a reality, and warn the rest for me!” Both dwarves were bolting back to the fountain and so didn’t hear Bilbo chuckling after them.

Having seen enough dwarves for a lifetime, he got up and looked away before opening his eyes and heading back from where he first came trying to look for Gandalf. He was meaning to ask the wizard if he had a general idea of how much longer they were going to stay in Rivendell. No way was he going to ask Thorin. Not after the episode from the day before. To think, the dwarf had the audacity to call his rumbling _purring_. Cats purr, dragons do not. He had a mind to set the dwarf king straight, but only after he got his wits back. The interaction left him unbalanced. It was the first time someone ever called him on his action and he wasn’t prepared. Bilbo never had a response to someone telling him he purred. Heck, most never dared to comment anything on him because he always had them quivering by the first meeting.

He was purring, bah! Nothing but nonsense. He wondered if cutting off one of Thorin’s braids would be considered betrayal. Bilbo understood that dwarven braids were important and usually stood for something, or were only meant for show and the better the style the more attractive they looked. Bilbo hoped for Thorin it was the latter that way he could cut one off and leave the king an ugly mess to the company. What an embarrassing sight he would make if it were.

Bilbo continued his walk to no destination. The thought of Thorin desperately trying to hide away to avoid showing his company the missing braids caused Bilbo to smile silly. He could just imagine the king scurrying away each time his nephews tried to look for him or find a bag and cover his face before anyone caught a sight. Maybe in one of his attempts Bilbo could innocently walk over and pluck the bag or hold the king down in order to ask him something, thus allowing his nephews a look and send them on a laughing spree.

What would Thorin’s reaction be upon finding his hair missing? Perhaps he’d scream in a high pitch, or turn an unnatural shade of red and purple from anger and humiliation, or even better he’d refused to walk in public and cancel the whole quest right then and there. Bilbo chuckled at the thought.

“Do you find something amusing, Burglar?”

Bilbo opened his eyes (since when did he even closed them?) and turned to the source, finding Thorin standing near the doorway as if he had just entered. Speak of the dwarf. The hobbit glared at him. He was the last dwarf he wanted to run into today. “Am I not allowed to find things amusing in your presence?”

Thorin glared right back, “Am I not allowed to ask questions without offending you?”

“You certainly weren’t doing a good job _not_ offending me the first few tries. So I don’t know, _can_ you ask questions without offending me?” Bilbo’s fingers began to twitch from irritation.

Thorin’s face twitched as well, “Can you stop trying to make me sound inferior?”

“Can you stop offending me?” 

“You have been insulting me since the start of this quest.”

“And you were the first to insult me from the moment we met.”

“You question my leadership and have been belittling me in front of my company,” Thorin snarled.

“You disrespect me and see my short structure and hobbit nature as a weakness,” Bilbo shot back.

“Aren’t all hobbits weary of strangers and laid-back, preferring to garden their time away?”

“Aren’t all dwarves greedy for gold and ill-mannered, too clumsy to even properly hold a tea cup?”

“Not all dwarves are greedy and ill-mannered!”

“And not all hobbits are weary and laid-back!”

At some point in their bantering and death-staring both hobbit and dwarf had taken steps forward to the other, failing to realize that they had gotten so close that they couldn’t move without accidentally bumping. They were nose to nose, similar to the same situation they got themselves the day before, and they refused to back out. Oh no, they stayed like this for minutes, willing for their opponent to burn on the spot from just staring. With one simple breath Bilbo could have probably set Thorin on fire, but that would be rude and he did promise Gandalf not to accidentally kill someone.

With no actual burning the stare match continued until Bilbo decided to be the grown up here and pulled away. Thorin was a dwarf; therefor he was too stubborn to surrender. If he wasn’t the one to finally put a stop to it they would have stayed locked together until the need for food or sleep or someone else interrupted them. Bilbo for one didn’t want to spend any more time than needed on this quest. He wanted it over with.

“How long are we to stay in Rivendell?” Bilbo growled with his back turned to Thorin.

“Why? Do you wish to stay longer for your elves?”

The hobbit felt his eyes twitching, “I asked you a simple question with no insult and yet you continue to fight me. Are you truly a king or are you a dwarfling?”

“I am no dwarfling!”

Bilbo rolled his eyes, “Of course you’re not. I ask again, how long?”

Thorin was seething but he answered him anyway, “We will leave in two days. Is that enough time for you to say goodbye to your elven friends?”

“What are you on about?” Bilbo asked, frustrated. “The only elves I even speak to are Elrond and his two sons. Two days is more than I need to bid them goodbye. Besides, what does it matter to you? Who I interact with is none of your business.”

“No, but you offend us by preferring the company of those elves instead of ours. We are traveling together and we still have a long way to go, and you treating us like dirt is not helping. You are making this journey unpleasant and creating unnecessary tension, and then you go and demean us by favoring the elves and showing them respect. If you won’t treat us the same then give us a reason why you do so.” When he finished Thorin had the tone of someone who just explained everything gone wrong in a situation and felt proud of himself, but to Bilbo it was anything but.

The hobbit still had his frown, but instead of it being from anger it was from confusion. His mouth opened and closed trying to think of how to respond. “What? That doesn’t- What? How am I disrespecting you by preferring the company of Elrond, Elrohir and Elladan? I’ve known them far longer than any of you! Of course I’ll prefer them. I barely know you.”

“And members of my company have been trying to sate this by including you, but you refuse them!”

Bilbo stilled for a second, thinking what Thorin said over. He guessed it was true. The dwarves since the beginning were trying to, unlike those folk in the other groups he helped with Gandalf back in the years.  With Elrond it sort of just happened. “I refuse everyone.”

“Everyone but the elves,” Thorin said and spat the last word with anger.

“Again with the elves. I willingly speak with Gandalf all the time but you haven’t mentioned him at all. Why aren’t you complaining about him?”  

“Because it is clear that you and Gandalf have history as old friends.”

“And me and Elrond don’t?”

“The elf’s people openly stare at you with dislike, and yet you treat him with esteem.”

“Well yes, Elrond isn’t his people. I don’t care what the other elves think of me, and as long as they don’t act out on it I will continue to treat Elrond as I am now. You and your company have no say in my business. If my friendship with Elrond bothers you then that’s your own fault. Honestly, all of you sound like jealous dwarflings right now.”

“We are not jealous, Burglar.”

Bilbo grinned. His frown was completely gone and his teeth were showing. Thorin had stopped glaring for a moment when he said the jealous part, returning it back when he realized he had done so. Bilbo could almost smell the embarrassment radiating from the dwarf king. What fun! He got something on him now. “My King, everything you said and how you explained it are clear signs of jealousy. Instead of treating me as if I just caused your company’s destruction you could have just said it to me. If it bothered you all that much I would have stopped.” That was a lie. If anything Bilbo would have continued even more and made it a goal to do so in front of them just to get payback for Bag End.

“We are not jealous!” Thorin growled.

The hobbit nodded with a serious face that he didn’t mean, “No of course not. That’s why you’re not here complaining to me about Elrond and his sons. _Dwarves_ ,” Bilbo said with a roll of his eyes. “And you say _I_ am the one making this quest unpleasant.”

“Enough of this,” Fed up, Thorin began walking towards the direction Bilbo came from, “Two days, Burglar, and we’re leaving this place.” The dwarf took four steps before Bilbo remembered something important that he hadn’t been informed about yet. He had the target himself in front of him, might as well ask already. He was currently traveling with the dwarf being hunted down after all, he deserved to know what he was not-risking his life on.

“Oakenshield,” Thorin stopped at his name called out, “why are there orcs after you?”

Even with his back turned to him, the hobbit noticed Thorin stiffen at the question. “Orcs are after everyone on the roads, Burglar.”

“They attack travelers on the roads, but they don’t target and hunt one specifically. Not unless that single individual managed to get a price on their head by an orc leader.” The hobbit looked out towards the distance, “Did you manage to anger an important orc, Oakenshield?”

“Like you once said, Burglar, it’s none of your business.”

“I’m afraid this matter is completely different from your jealousy of the elves. This affects your company, and it affects me. If there is a prize on your head you’re not only putting yourself in danger by walking the roads, but you’re putting the company and me. We’re walking roads with hunters out there. I’ll like to know why they are after you if I’m putting my life on the line.” The last sentence if said by anyone else would have sounded grave and determined. Life was something not to be played with, but since it was Bilbo there wasn’t a single emotion behind it. Not even a spec.

Thorin Oakenshield never noticed.

“You’ve said you fought plenty of orcs, Burglar. You must know firsthand what happens when you make enemies with them.” The king turned his head to look at the hobbit still facing towards a distance away from him.

“Trust me, I know, especially when you let them survive. Orcs hold grudges, and when they have a goal they follow it blindly.”

Thorin whipped his body around so fast that the noise his coat made echoed across the hall and the steps he walked rumbled and nearly shook the foundation. The king was inches from Bilbo’s face when he stopped, breathing heavily and with anger Bilbo had never seen before. “I did not let the orc survive. Azog the Defiler is _dead_.”

The atmosphere around them became so tense that Bilbo basked in it as he remembered the ferocity and the wrath he used to express himself. He could nearly feel the heat burning from Thorin and see the fire dancing in his eyes. He almost suffocated in it and he loved every minute of it, but the spell broke too soon. The name Thorin said rang a bell in his head and suddenly the journey was grimmer than he first thought.

It was one thing to travel and expecting danger, like he said, and it was another to be hunted down, especially by one Azog the Defiler. Bilbo knew the name, but he had never met the orc in person. He heard it spoken between the lowly orcs traveling the lands. The name alone held power, and the orc carrying the name carried that power and more without a doubt. If Azog was the one hunting Thorin down then Bilbo had more to worry about on his hands. He now had fourteen lives to take care of.

“ _Azog the Defiler_ , and when were you going to reveal this to me? After orcs have run us down with no chance of escape? After one of your company is killed?”

“It mattered not if I revealed it to you. Azog is long gone.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes, something that had Thorin bristling. “No of course not. That’s why there are orcs out there wanting to kill you for getting rid of their leader. Orcs could care less for those in charge. They settle with the next best thing and those new in leadership never seek revenge for their fallen comrade. Someone wants you dead, Oakenshield, and unless you have something of theirs the only possibility is that Azog is still alive or he has an offspring or mate out there wanting you to pay. Which one do you think it is?”

The dwarf king didn’t answer for a moment, thinking it over, “If Azog has a spawn out there then I will end it like I did with him.”

Dwarves were too stubborn for their own good. Bilbo could feel a headache coming on. “You will put your company at risk if you think like that. Will you go on knowing that at any moment their blood could be spilled and you will be responsible?”

“They have signed contracts. The company knew what they were getting into, but their blood won’t be spilled. Not so long as I stand. Nothing will stop me from completing this quest. Long have I waited for this moment and nothing will stand in my way. No orcs and certainly not you.”

Thorin made to move but Bilbo stopped him by gripping his arm harshly. “Do not think I am the enemy simply for asking about the company’s future, Oakenshield. I joined this quest to help, not to fight.”

Thorin yanked his arm free, “You’re doing a fine job fighting against us.”

“If I truly wanted to make you enemies you wouldn’t even be standing right now.”

“Is that so?” Thorin loomed over Bilbo. “Is that a threat, _Burglar_?”

Bilbo didn’t back down, “No, _Your Majesty_ , it’s a fact.”

Both of them stood for a fair amount of time just glaring at each other. The stares were so fierce that the hallways grew with such intense heat that it was a miracle none of the plants decorating the outside didn’t burst into flames. Neither dwarf nor hobbit noticed this, and no elf or member of the company walked nearby to feel the shift in temperature, and so the two continued until finally one broke away.

Thorin pulled and took steps back. “Do not get in our way, Burglar. Nothing will happen to my company, but if you forget your place I won’t guarantee your safety.”

Bilbo was unaffected and ignored the threat. “Can you promise nothing will happen to the company?”

“No.”

“Then your words mean nothing. Do not say it won’t happen when you don’t have the power to stop it. You worry about your precious quest since that seems to be the only thing you care for. I’ll worry about the safety of your company. So long as you don’t get in my way I will not get in yours.”

“You worry about yourself, Burglar.” With those final words Thorin turned his back and walked away, turning the corner and disappearing from sight.

With the tension gone Bilbo finally took a cool breath of air and sighed. For a minute he stood and tried to calm himself before suddenly lashing out and striking the wall with his left hand. On the wall he left a small crack that was only visible from a close distance, but Bilbo didn’t notice it, nor did he notice his hand throbbing from the pain it caused. His mind was filled with the conversation and what he said during. He couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth. _‘I’ll worry about the safety of your company?’_ When in his right mind would he say that?

He was in the middle of scolding himself for saying such words and showing weakness when the pain that shot up through his arm after moving his fingers snapped him out of the rant. He looked at his hand and cautiously lifted it. His hand had experienced pain before from multiple battles he assisted in, but never before had it been this aching. It was always a dull sort of feeling, but right now his hand felt like it had just been crushed against boulders.

He got a shock of his life when he saw his hand and realized- his fingers were broken.

“What in the-?” He hissed when he poked the fingers with his other hand and for a moment he panicked. It was understandable that he would panic; after all he’s never had to worry about broken bones or any life-threatening wounds. Now suddenly he had broken fingers after punching a stone wall. No wonder he nearly shouted. Thankfully, he didn’t. Shouting was for the weak. Bilbo was anything but. So slowly he calmed himself again but never took his eyes off the appendages and once he got his bearings back he (steadily) walked in order to find Gandalf and (hopefully) get answers.

By some miracle he did manage to find the old wizard but he never allowed Bilbo to get a word out about his injury. Instead, Gandalf had his own urgent news to share. The wizard’s news overshadowed his own with no contest. There was a meeting happening in Rivendell that involved the White Council. Upon hearing that Bilbo immediately knew what Gandalf was trying to tell him. There was no Council without the one wizard who was leader.

Saruman was in Rivendell, and unless Thorin wanted his quest to be put to a stop, they needed to get out before the white wizard confronts them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might not be able to update this story once or twice a week like I promised. School is starting for me and suddenly I got a bunch of stuff thrown on my lap that I never considered and are going to take a huge bite out of my spare time. Sorry about that.  
> Updates are going to be all over the map and unpredictable. 
> 
> Besides that, thanks for your suggestions and help from the last chapter. It certainly gave me a lot of ideas! ^^ *Hugs you all*  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	15. Misty Mountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stone giants and the goblins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  My interpretation of Bilbo's dragon form. Now you don't have to keep imagining! The link will take you to my art blog that also has a sketchy cover art of this fic.  
> [Link](http://naferty-art.tumblr.com/post/95684295966/my-version-of-dragon-bilbo-and-a-messy-sketch)
> 
>  
> 
> Littlebirdy3tweet bribed me with cookies to make an update and, honestly, who can resist cookies? You better make do on your part Littlebirdy3tweet! And they better be chocolate chip! >:I

Convincing Thorin to get ready and leave Rivendell would have been a quest of its own. After just getting into a heated argument with the dwarf he suddenly had to speak with him again to inform they had to leave as soon as possible. Bilbo wasn’t exactly looking forward to that, but by some luck it didn’t turn out as bad as he had thought.

At first Thorin wanted to hear nothing from him, but when Bilbo mentioned a meeting was going on to stop the quest and prevent reclaiming the blasted mountain the dwarf king instantly shut up and listened. Bilbo revealed Gandalf wanted them to move now as he distracted the Council. He would meet up with them again shortly after they reached the Misty Mountains.

Thorin absorbed the information and quickly began barking orders for the company to collect their things and pack together all the supplies they were given. Bilbo was amongst the first to finish their pack and waited anxiously for the rest to finish. At any given moment Saruman would show up and ruin what they had done so far, which wasn’t much but it still counted for something. In all honesty, Bilbo just wanted to get as far away as he could from the white wizard. Just the thought of him irked the hobbit to no end.

His hand with the none-broken fingers twitched. For the moment he had to ignore the injury for there wasn’t much he could do. He never got damages. He had no idea what the first thing he needed to do was, and he wasn’t about to ask the dwarves either. It would just cause them to fuss and worry. At least that’s what he thought. He wasn’t sure if the dwarves even actually cared if he got injured or not.

Now was not the time to think about that. They needed to get a move on and in order to speed the process he began helping without thinking. He snatched Fili’s bedroll and quickly curled it (mindful to keep his injured hand from moving), followed by tucking away some of his shirts and handing over the small knifes and short swords the dwarf was fixing on his body. Fili was surprised when he began to do this, but Bilbo was too busy hurrying up to think much about it. When he finished what he could with Fili he got to work on Bofur, followed by Bifur and finally Kili. All of them had similar expressions like Fili. By the time he finished helping Kili everyone was done and Thorin was already ordering them to get a move on.

Bilbo waited behind until all the dwarves were moving. They followed the similar path that first brought them to the homely place and when he was about to cross through the rocky opening he looked back to Rivendell. A feeling of guilt filled his chest as he thought about Myrtle and the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, and also Elrond. He didn’t even get a chance to say a proper goodbye. So much for two days being enough.

In his mind he wished them the best and prayed the twins didn’t try to follow after him. He wouldn’t put it behind them as something they’d attempt. The twins were known to do the most abrupt things.

Even with his guilt they couldn’t leave Rivendell fast enough. And once they were out of Rivendell they couldn’t get away from it fast enough. At a certain point the company decided to take calmer steps and while Bilbo had to force himself to follow suit he didn’t had to like it. The land began to rise and Rivendell had long disappeared from sight but he still felt they had to move faster. Slow but surely a familiar feeling began to creep back, and similar to that with the trolls the feeling of dread loomed over him. By the time some of the dwarves saw fit to try and make conversation with him he was already on the edge and could only shake his head and smile in apology for not talking. It didn’t help his hand was still throbbing from the pain.

When the soft soil turned to stone and the land had risen to the point where only the tips of trees could be seen Bilbo wanted to growl and shout for them to hurry up. The sun was setting in and the closer it got to the earth the worse his feeling became. Something was going to happen, and soon. He sensed danger around them. All of it leading to start at night.

Sure enough when night came and a storm brewed above them with the road changing from a wide trail to a narrow cliff with barely enough room to walk the danger decided to make itself known in the form of stone giants. Bilbo gritted his teeth and scolded himself for not remembering the giants that made the Misty Mountains their home. He should have timed it so they wouldn’t cross in the middle of the night, but with his nerves on high and the thought of Saruman in Rivendell clouding his mind the last thing he thought of were the overgrown boulders.  

He was standing next to Bofur as they walked across the cliff when the mad hat-dwarf decided to walk forward and gaze at the giants in amazement as he told everyone the legends were true. Bilbo quickly reacted when the giant threw a giant boulder across from them and grabbed Bofur’s sleeve, yanking him back with force and placing half of his body in front to cover him. They ducked down as the stone hit and crumbled against the mountain. When it was over he wanted to shout ‘Is everyone alright?’ but couldn’t because on that moment Thorin bellowed “Take cover! You’ll fall!” and the mountain under them decided to quake.

With his sharp ears he heard the deep rumble of the wall behind them break and his body grew cold at the realization. They weren’t at any mountain at all, they were on a stone giant!

“Brace yourselves!” Bilbo shouted with all his might.

“What’s happening?” He heard Kili ask.

The mountain under them split in two, separating Fili and the dwarves behind him, including Bilbo, from Kili and those in front of him. By the hobbit’s sides were Bofur and Ori. When the giant stood and was struck by another giant, causing them to almost be thrown off by the sheer movement, Bilbo grabbed and pushed both of them and himself back with all his hobbit force, wincing at the pain shooting up his arm at using his left hand on Bofur. The giant moved and for a moment Bilbo’s group of dwarves were able to witness Thorin’s group fly across from them before the wall of the mountain grew closer, on the verge of smashing them to a pulp. On the last moment, just before hitting the wall, Bilbo shouted for them all to jump on the batch of cliff that was under them that could prevent the giant’s leg from crushing them completely. Not everyone could hear his orders. The thunder roaring in the skies prevented that. Therefore, he used sight to help spread the message along. He threw Bofur and Ori out, making them fall on the cliff and as fast as he could he ran to the sides and pushed Fili and Dori. The rest of the dwarves got the message and jumped as well and once they were all safely down Bilbo made to follow after them, but he misjudged his time.

The wall was closer than he anticipated and if he hadn’t had ducked down, placing himself on his back on the floor, he would have been crushed without a doubt. Even though he can’t die he had just gotten an injury on his hand, broken bones. He wasn’t about to risk getting his skull crushed and becoming a monstrous sight.

When the giant began moving again, giving Bilbo room to take action, he quickly tried pushing himself to jump on the cliff, but the giant was falling too fast. Bilbo just barely managed to grab the edges of stone and was now dangling. The pain from using his broken hand was agonizing and he shouted when it first made contact with the stone. With his strength he tried pulling himself back up but his hand prevented getting any further above his elbows. He didn’t know how long he dangled on the edge and was about to give up and let go from the sheer pain when out from the edge popped the heads of Bofur and Ori. They tried reaching down for him, but Bilbo was too far.

Even though he was dangling and the two dwarves looked beyond horrified at the thought of him falling Bilbo still had the nerve to think of complimenting them on their attempt. He even felt himself grin. His hand was becoming a painful annoyance and he wanted to let go and stop it, but just before he was going to he thought better of it when he saw a small crack form under the piece of stone Ori was kneeling over form. His grin was gone and he looked at Ori with fear for his safety. The crack grew bigger and bigger. Ori was going to fall.

“Ori move!” But it was too late.

The stone under Ori crumbled and down came the young dwarf. He screamed as he fell, nearly causing Bilbo’s ears to go deaf because the scream was beyond anything he had ever heard. Ori was falling from his right side, so without even thinking about his broken hand he shot his right arm out and grabbed the dwarf. When Ori stopped Bilbo cried from his left hand becoming the only thing still holding on to the stone, cracking from the force.

Dwarves were shouting from on top. They were shouting Bilbo’s name and they were shouting Ori’s. On his arm he could feel the young dwarf grab his hand and cling for dear life. Bilbo held for as long as he could. He didn’t know how long that was, but at one point he felt his fingers slip, putting more pressure on the broken bones. He shouted to the dwarves. He wasn’t going to hold on for much longer. “Get him!”

Bilbo’s eyes were closed when Thorin climbed down and reached out for Ori, yanking him up and into the arms of the others. He opened them again when he was relieved of his load and spotted Thorin trying to reach out for him. Bilbo was indifferent when the king grabbed his shoulder and yanked him up with hardly any trouble. He felt the hands of dwarves haul him up and pull him as far away from the edge as they could. To the sides he heard what he thought was Dori whispering ‘thank you’ over and over again as he cradled Ori in-between his arms with Nori.

Bilbo never once took his eyes off of Thorin. His face was completely blank, even when Thorin slipped and had to have Dwalin help him. Once the king was on his feet again he glared at Bilbo and turned his back.

“I thought we’d lost our burglar.” Dwalin said once they all caught their breath again.

No one said anything. None of them dared to after an experience like that, but Thorin refused to let it go. He turned forward again and glared at the hobbit. “Did you not say you will keep the company safe while I worry about the quest since that is all I care about? _You_ just put my company in danger. You travel the lands and yet you couldn’t do something as simple as pull yourself up. You should never have come with us.”

Bilbo didn’t show any emotions on his face, but inside he was burning. He had anger in him from the king even saying such a thing. If it wasn't for him half of the company wouldn’t even be alive anymore, crushed with their remains splattered on the wall. He also had guilt because it was true he nearly killed Ori. All because his blasted hand was broken and he couldn’t lift himself up. That should never have been a problem in the first place. The last emotion was dejection because no matter what the dwarf king was obviously never going to be happy with a single thing he did. Thorin was the one who disrespected him first, but the dwarf put the blame on Bilbo as if it was his fault for even breathing the same air the king was.

Bilbo’s lips were in a thin line as the king ordered them to get a move on and led them inside a small cave. He didn’t talk with anyone and didn’t bother doing anything. The king wouldn’t let him either way. The dwarves kept a respectable distance from him; even though it was evident they wanted to say something. He picked a corner and remained there; facing the side so he didn’t have to stare at any of them outright and they didn’t have to stare at his back. Like this he remained, even after the company was sound asleep. He stared at the wall and thought about calming and happy things. He thought about Bag End and Belladonna and their times together when she was still only a child running around having adventures. Bilbo would laugh at the silly creature she was.

He thought about Gandalf as well, and Radagast and Elrond and his two sons. He thought about what they were doing and how they reacted when they realized he was gone. Would they be sad? Or would they get mad because he didn’t say goodbye to them personally? Or perhaps they wouldn’t care and continue the day like any other? Bilbo felt a bit of pain at the last one. Now that he thought about it, it was rude that he left without a proper departure. He needed to go back and make things right with the twins. They were nothing but welcoming when he was there. He owed them that at least. Besides, none of the dwarves would miss him anyway. After all, it was _Bilbo_ who was putting them in danger. Might as well get rid of the problem.

Getting up quietly and picking up his pack that he never bothered to undo he stalked and walked over the collection of scattered dwarves. He was nearly out the cave door when he heard the shuffling of sand and steps coming forward. He groaned when he realized he had forgotten the dwarf keeping watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Great, out of all the dwarves it had to be Bofur. “Back to Rivendell.” Bilbo simply said.

“No, no you can’t turn back now. You’re part of the company. You’re one of us.” The sincerity that came out of the dwarf was almost enough to warm his heart and make him stay.

Bilbo still shook his head as he said, “I’m not though, am I? I’m putting all of you in danger, according to Thorin. And really, all I’m doing is causing unnecessary tension in this company. You’re all better off without me.”

“That’s not true!” Bofur whispered as loud as he could without awaking any of the others, surprising Bilbo. “If it wasn’t for you most of us wouldn’t even be here. We would have been crushed against the mountain if you hadn’t pushed us down. Ori would be somewhere under the mountain right now.”

“Yes, but it was because of me that Ori would have been down there. I was dangling, after all, and he was trying to help me.”

“You were dangling because you were helping us first. Thorin wasn’t there to see it, but we owe you. You weren’t putting us in danger, you were saving us.”

Bilbo smiled, “But like you said, Thorin wasn’t there to see it. It’s too late to do anything about it. Thorin doesn’t want me here and frankly none of the other dwarves either. I should have never agreed to this.”

“That’s not- No, you’re homesick. I understand.”

“No, Bofur, that has nothing to do with this. I’m not homesick. I’ve traveled the lands enough to know Bag End will always be there waiting. I agreed to this because of Gandalf, but it’s clear that Thorin doesn’t want anything to do with me. So I’ll follow his wishes and leave.”

“But-” Bofur looked devastated and Bilbo realized leaving them was harder than it should have been.

Bilbo was about to wish the dwarf happiness and find everything he desired when he noticed Bofur’s stare go from his face down to his waist, stopping there and looking at his side in confusion. Bilbo followed his gaze and realized the sword Gandalf had given him was glowing blue.

_Elvish make. Glows blue when orcs or goblins are nearby._

His head snapped up and as loudly as he could he shouted, “Wake up! Wake up all of you!”

The dwarves began stirring, and to his great shock Thorin was the first to stand up, looking wide awake as if he was never asleep in the first place. Bilbo’s stomach dropped at the revelation. Had the dwarf king been up and listening the whole time?

Under them the floor swallowed up sand as a crack formed across the surface. The ground split in two as doors opened up and down fell the dwarves and hobbit. They slid through a tunnel, screaming and trying to grab hold of something to stop their drop. Bilbo himself was trying to dig his fingers in the stone failing miserably and hissing from the unnecessary pain he was causing himself with his broken hand. Giving up with his arms he tried using his feet, planting the soles of his hobbit feet to create friction and hopefully slow down, but even that proved useless. It did give him a distance, however, and he ended up being the last one out of the tunnel, landing into the center of a goblin huddle that was already working on capturing the dwarves. He landed on one particularly short and fat goblin, causing the creature to shriek from the sudden appearance of flying hobbits, but once it got its bearings back he started lashing out at him.

Bilbo landed on his back and used his feet to keep the goblin at bay. The creature had short arms that didn’t even reach his knees and it gave Bilbo a chance to survey their situation. All the dwarves were already stripped free of their weapons and were being led away somewhere through a hall. He managed to get a glimpse of the last dwarf in line, the star-shaped hairstyle giving him all he needed to know on who it was. Nori was last and they were disappearing fast.

Growling at the infuriating creature that refused to give up trying to lash at him, Bilbo buckled his knees and threw the goblin with surprising amount of force, sending the thing flying and smacking against the wall. The goblin shrieked, gaining the attention of its brothers. Now Bilbo had an entire hoard looking at him, studying him and… smelling him?

“What is it, what is it?” One said with a voice that matched with its disgusting skin.

“It smells like fire! It’s fire!” Said another.

“It smells like dragon but it doesn’t look like one!” Finished one that was too smart for his own good.

Bilbo’s eyes widened and out of reflex he looked to the dwarves, hoping none of them heard what the goblin said. He felt relieved when he saw none of them were even paying attention towards his direction. Looking back to the goblins he gave them a feral grin, “You realize now that I can’t let you live.”

The goblins screamed and dashed to him. “Kill it! Kill it!” They were shouting. All together they jumped on him, covering his entire body with nothing but goblins. Bilbo grimaced and tried swatting them away. He tried reaching for his sword but the goblins were beating every inch of him with their hands, making it impossible to reach.

The hobbit shouted in annoyance, the goblins shouting with him. Bilbo started walking in an attempt to dislodge some of them. He knocked the goblin covering his sight and managed to see the last dwarf in line looking at him in horror for his welfare. Nori was witnessing Bilbo getting killed by goblins and was trying to push himself to him, but he couldn’t get to the hobbit in time.

One goblin that wasn’t part of the tussle jumped from the top of the wall and landed on Bilbo, knocking the hobbit off balance and making a huge mistake as it did so. Bilbo was near the edge of the walkway and knocking him over caused him to lose his footing, sending them all down the trench and further down the mountain. Just before everything went black Bilbo heard the sheer terror from the scream of his name that came from Nori, “Bilbo!” and nothing more.

 

~~

 

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was pain. A lot of pain. Bilbo never felt this much pain before. There was a throbbing on the back of his head and he didn’t dare move it. He remained in place and waited for the pain to dull down. Eventually, it did but it took too long. He made the mistake of lifting his head too fast and had to stop himself from swaying at the dizziness it caused. Gingerly, he used his un-broken hand to touch against the throbbing at the base of his skull and felt something warm and wet on it. He pulled back his hand as if it burned and noticed it covered in red liquid. It took him a second to register, but when he did he nearly had a panic attack from just the sight of it.

There was blood on his hand.

Bilbo knew what blood was. Every race had it, even dragons. He never saw his dragon blood firsthand, but as a hobbit he saw plenty of wounds in his years to know what blood looked like. And this blood was coming from him.

He looked to where he landed just to make sure the blood wasn’t from some other victim in the fall, but sure enough nobody else was under him. Instead, a sharp stone about the size of his head was resting innocently where he was just laying a few seconds ago. On top of the stone was the very same red liquid his hand was painted with.

Bilbo couldn’t believe it. He just fell from who knows how high, managed to land on the one single stone from a wide space of floor and used it as a pillow while he slept for some amount of time, had a wound that was spilling blood down under his shirt and was still wide awake with large amount of pain and still alive and kicking.

“If I was anyone else I would be dead right now.” He muttered to himself in aggravation. This new bit of information revealed he _could_ get a life-threatening injury, but apparently no amount of blood loss or open wounds was actually going to finish him off. That was both a good and bad thing, he guessed.

He searched the area he landed and found the goblins that attacked him, all five, lying unconscious and scattered everywhere. None of them looked to have survived the landing. A sound of someone breathing heavily and disturbing the sand signaled that he wasn’t alone. Further down a tunnel that connected to the room he was in came a creature he had never seen before, at least not normally on a daily basis. It wasn’t any goblin, and certainly not an orc. It didn’t look like any elf, dwarf or man. No, the creature had the body shape of a starved two-legged race. And at one point on his hobbit life the creature looked like Bilbo when he tried starving himself.

Bilbo wanted to do many things at the sight of the thing. He wanted to gag from the unsightliness. He wanted to cringe from the reminder. He wanted to end the pitiful thing’s life, and really, he just wanted to get as far away from it as possible and forget everything.

Getting away was harder to do when there was no cover to hide in and the creature spotted him moving. The thing was next to him in a second. “Bless us and splash us, Precious! That’s a meaty mouthful! Goblinses everywhere, we will feast for days, Precious, days!”

Bilbo narrowed his eyes at the thing’s sayings. _Meaty mouthful? Was the creature calling him fat?_ “Get away from me, you rat.” He growled. His head hurt too much to think of proper combats.

“It called us ratses, Precious, it called us ratses.” The creature moved to try and lean over him.

“I’m warning you.” The thing, the _Precious_ , wasn’t listening so without hesitation Bilbo pulled out his sword and aimed the pointed tip right at the creature’s chest. It backed away at the sight and glared at him, walking around trying to figure him out.

“It’s got an elfish blade, but it’s not an elfs. Not an elfs, no. What is it, Precious? What is it?”

“What I am is of no importance to you.”

The creature shrieked and jumped swiftly across from him. “It’s not an elfs! It’s not an elfs, Precious! It won’t tells us what it is!”

“You demented little-” Bilbo couldn’t finish his sentence because the creature decided he wanted to eat already and attacked. It managed to knock the sword right out of his hand. Surprisingly, the thing was stronger than he thought and started scratching and even tried biting him. With no sword and one broken hand and a throbbing head Bilbo went for his second best option. He grabbed the stone he used as a pillow and gave a good aimless whack at the person. By some luck he was able to smack it right on its head, and with even more luck he also got it unconscious with one single blow.

The hobbit breathed heavily, and deciding he had enough entertainment for one day got up and reclaimed his sword, but not before aiming it back at the creature’s chest. He had the mind to end the things life. It was living at the base of a mountain, alone and eating whatever goblin was unlucky enough to fall down. It was insane and seemed to talk to itself. _Him,_ Bilbo corrected from the way he was only wearing a single cloth to cover his privates. Nobody would miss him, and Bilbo would be doing him a favor.

When he was about to make the plunge he hesitated. He nicked the skin at most, but didn’t go further. He tried again, but like before he stopped right before passing completely through. Bilbo growled at himself, but slowly pulled the sword back. The creature was living here on its own, minding its own life and business. Bilbo had the misfortune to come into this person’s home. It wasn’t the thing’s fault.

Sighing, he sheathed his sword, “I’m getting too damn soft.”

He searched for any sort of exit that would take him away from the unconscious person and back to the company where hopefully Gandalf was already there saving them. He picked a tunnel that looked most promising. It smelled of air instead of the other end where the smell of fresh water radiated. Air was a better bet than water. Bilbo made to follow the tunnel filled with air when something caught his eye and a new smell reached his nose. Besides his foot was a shiny gold ring. He stared at the thing for a good minute or two, baffled that something like it would be here in a cave under a mountain of all places. Carefully, he bent down to grab it. It had a pull on it, like most gold did, but Bilbo fought against it. It looked like an innocent gold piece completely out of place in this dark environment. Perhaps he could gift it to someone? Did Elrond enjoy jewelry? Or his two sons? He could gift it as an apology for leaving without saying goodbye. He could even give it to Myrtle, but he wasn’t sure what use gold rings were to ponies.

Shrugging, he placed the ring in his pocket and buttoned it up. The moment he walked through the tunnel and managed to find an exit from the blasted mountain he forgot all about it and its existence in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Guys! I like, really enjoyed writing this chapter and the next upcoming one. They were the scenes in my head that just kept repeating over and over and if you can I'd really love it if you commented what you thought about it. Did you enjoy the twists and turns it took and what was your favorite part?


	16. A Orc Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarves are back and Azog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found a few minutes and I took it. I'm so excited about this chapter that I couldn't wait!

Bilbo was finally out of the mountain. He saw trees, soil, grass and the sun quickly going down and disappearing from the distance. It was about to be nighttime, and he had no idea where the dwarves were at all.

He looked back inside the cave and thought about returning for them if they were by chance still trapped inside. Perhaps they weren’t even inside at all and were running down the mountain. Should he continue to try and catch up?

Bilbo scratched his head at the third possibility that appeared in his head. There might have been a chance that none of the dwarves were even alive anymore. If that was the case what should he do? Without them there was no purpose to the quest. He wasn’t about to reclaim a mountain that didn’t belong to him. The supposedly mountains of gold inside would be nothing but trouble, attracting unsavory characters and practically useless just lying there. On top of that he had Smaug to worry about. Young dragons were always the worst to deal with.

The hobbit was stumped. He didn’t know what to do and had not been given a single clue to follow. He tried listening for anything that might sound like dwarves, but he heard nothing. He tried looking back in the cave, expecting something to pop out and startle him, but even that didn’t happen. The sun was disappearing fast now. If he stayed here any longer he’ll have the entire population of goblins tackling him down on the spot. He steeled himself, preparing if it came to that.

A howl echoing through the night answered what his next course of action should be. His ears focused on the outside noise across the hills and his eyes searched rapidly for the source. He cursed when he spotted a warg making its way across and jumping over boulders, and it wasn’t alone. About three others made themselves known and off to the very top of the land where stone became earth was the leader of the pack. An orc loomed over them all with followers and ordered the wargs to get a move on.

The entire orc pack was here.

Bilbo would have taken them on his own no trouble, but seeing as he was now getting wounds from anything around him he wasn’t going to stand still and take the risk. He suffered through enough pain; he didn’t need to add more.  

It was degrading what he did next, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He ran.

He needed to find cover of sorts or at least get out of the wide open space. Wargs hunted best together and with enough room to run around without bumping into each other. If he was going to fight them with as minimal injuries as possible he needed to find a tight corner. Finding one was going to be impossible with all the terrain everywhere. Not even the boulders held any possibility of helping.

Far sooner than Bilbo hoped a warg was nearly reaching him. He could hear their padded footsteps just behind him. The footsteps changed from soil to stone. A warg had just jumped over a boulder and was about to strike. Bilbo wasn’t going to let it. When he heard the nails claw against stone in a leap he turned around with his sword out and held it up in the air. It was the right thing to do as the weapon was perfectly placed under the wargs snout. Bilbo only held out the sword, the warg did the rest, landing on it and piercing it through its jaw and skull. It landed dead on its side with the bottom of its snout aimed to the sky.

The warg’s comrade was seeking revenge and came barreling down for Bilbo. The hobbit readied himself. Without his sword he went for the next best thing. His fire. His chest rumbled with warmth as he took a deep breath, and right when the warg was about to reach him, and he was about to release his fire, the beast skidded to a stop suddenly and dropped on its stomach.

The sight caused Bilbo to cough as he stopped himself from opening his mouth and setting the carcass ablaze. On the warg’s head was an arrow that had pierced through. Bilbo knew who that arrow belonged to. Quickly, he tried swallowing his fire back. The action caused black smoke to sprout from his nose and his eyes to water. While his hobbit body managed to create the fire it sure didn’t know how to extinguish it. He hid behind a boulder as he coughed the smoke out, most of it coming from his mouth and bits coming from his nose. When he was sure there wasn’t any more he peaked over the boulder and cheered when he found Kili standing just over the horizon with Fili, Nori, Dori and Gandalf by his side.

They made it out of the mountain and they were all alive! Thanks to Gandalf no doubt.

The dwarves were moving towards him just as more howls sounded through the night. Now with dwarves added to the mix the situation became so much worse. Bilbo jumped over the boulder after snatching his sword back and shouted, “Run back! Run back now!” and ran to them.

Kili and Fili apparently didn’t catch his message and still continued forwards, only realizing what he meant when they spotted the pack of wargs coming at them with unimaginable speed. Bilbo grabbed them both, hissing from the pain his broken hand caused, and continued running, dragging them with him. The more they ran down the more dwarves he found. Counting them quickly and making sure they were all running, he pushed the two young dwarves forward and ordered them to run faster. The throbbing of his head was coming back full force and it was causing him to slow down. If he was going to get caught he didn’t want the two with him.

They continued running, and even though he was all the way in the back Bilbo was the first to realize they had a problem. The dwarves hadn’t reached it but with his sharp eyes he spotted the land they were on broke apart further down, creating a cliff and nowhere else to go. They were trapped. Still running, he searched the area for ways to keep the dwarves safe. He found it on the tall trees scattered around. It was a long shot, but they had no other alternative.

The dwarves were stopping near the edge but Bilbo wasn’t going to let them rest. “Up the trees! Quickly! Climb! Gandalf, climb!”

Gandalf understood and began shouting for the dwarves to climb up the trees. He helped some and pushed others, only getting on when the dwarves closest to him were up on branches. Bilbo followed his lead and quickly gave boosts to the dwarves lagging behind like him. He pushed Ori up and gave a hand getting the old dwarf with those reign braids and used an ear trumpet up the branches. He himself didn’t climb until all the dwarves were safely up. He was slow in making the height, grabbing the branches with his broken hand made it difficult and his head adding dizziness to the mix didn’t help. A branch he used for his footing snapped all of a sudden and down he came, unable to grab hold of anything on his fall. He stopped just inches away from a wargs mouth snapping up at him. The trumpet-dwarf had grabbed him before he reached the bottom and pulled him back up, but he had grabbed the bad hand and was crushing his broken fingers together.

Bilbo screamed from the pain.

He was back on the tree with even more pain. For a moment they managed to catch their breath until the leader of the orc pack decided to come up and reveal who exactly was responsible for hunting Thorin down. Bilbo gave Thorin a quick glance, noting the shocked expression the dwarf was giving at the realization.

“Azog?!”

Bilbo looked back at the orc he was referring to. It was a large pale orc riding an equally large pale warg. The two were clearly the pack leaders from the way they held themselves with terrifying authority, and the orc was without a doubt the one Thorin claimed to have killed. Bilbo was finally face to face with Azog the Defiler. He now understood why this orc seemed important and leader material for the orcs.

The pale orc looked over the collection of dwarves with a grin, “ _Do you smell it? The scent of fear?_ ” the orc looked at the dwarf king. “ _I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain._ ”

Bilbo glared and growled. There was more behind simple enemies wanting to kill each other by sheer bad luck. This was family business.

He willed for the orcs and wargs to burn on the spot. If it wasn’t for the blasted four-legged dogs the company would have had a chance against the orcs alone. Azog ordered the attack and the wargs came jumping on the trees and biting off the branches, trying to reach the dwarves. Their added weight caused the trees to topple down, hitting the next sets of trees that all had dwarves on them. With no choice they all jumped. Bilbo was the last one to leave the tree, helping the few dwarves that lost their footing. He grabbed Fili from the back of his neck when one warg snatched a branch away and was about to fall and tossed him to the next tree. He did the same with another dwarf he hadn’t learn his name yet who was in the middle of jumping but quickly fell when the tree shook. The dwarf had ginger hair and a fierce scowl on him. The hobbit grabbed his arm and used the momentum the tree was creating to jump with his load to the next, dropping him on branches that were still intact.

The wargs chased them all to Gandalf’s tree and the last tree remaining before the cliff happened. No other choice and his head now killing him along with his hand, Bilbo held on to the trunk of the tree and rested his front on it, closing his eyes and hoping the pain disappeared. He didn’t pay attention to what happened next, but one thing he knew was that Gandalf did something that caused roaring fires to sprout around them. He would have basked at the sight, but his head had other ideas, and so did the tree. It broke and was now dangling them over the drop. Bilbo heard screams and shouts. He especially heard the familiar screams of Ori and the shouts Dori made as he called for Gandalf and for Ori to ‘hold on.’

Bilbo wanted to help, but the time it was taking for his head to stop hurting prevented it. When it became a tolerable dull throb he risked opening his eyes. The image was blurry with the fire obscuring everything. He managed to detail a figure he guessed was the pale warg from the way its body was shaped, and the warg was fighting against something smaller. It was only after Balin shouted “Nooo!” did Bilbo fully open his eyes and understood what was happening.

The blasted fool of a dwarf king was single-handedly battling Azog and his warg, and losing! Bilbo cursed the day the dwarf was born. With his head still hurting and his hand aching he stood, unsheathed his sword and ran. Thorin was on the floor and another orc was about to chop his head off. The hobbit tackled the damn thing and impaled his sword multiple times until the orc was dead. A bit dizzy he stood protectively over Thorin’s body and refused to move. He swung his sword messily as a warning to show he wasn’t going down without a fight.

Azog grinned at the sight, but so focused was he on the hobbit that he never noticed three other dwarves charging in and attacking. Bilbo followed after them and struck a warg and his rider that wasn’t Azog. He was too dazed to actually cause any arm and only gave them paper cuts, but it was enough to send them running back. Bilbo wobbled from shakiness and the pale orc took his chance to maneuver his warg to jump and send him flying back, landing next to Thorin. From the pain it caused his head Bilbo laid down and found it difficult to move again. He shut his eyes and hoped Gandalf had done something to help them get out of this situation.

His prayers were answered when the shriek of an eagle came swooping down near him. Facing the sky he spotted multiple eagles flying around, snatching wargs and their riders up only to drop them over the cliff. He thanked Gandalf just as an eagle flew near him and carefully lifted Thorin’s unconscious body up.

In his mind, Bilbo bid them goodbye and wished Thorin to be alright. He knew the eagles were going to pick up all the dwarves and Gandalf and carry them somewhere far away from here and keep them safe. He also knew that the eagles weren’t going to pick _him_ up, however. Eagles and dragons were a bad combination, and eagles had plenty of reasons to hate dragons, which was what he was.

The cries of eagles lessened by the minute, and like he predicted Bilbo remained where he was thrown. When the last traces of wings beating against the wind disappeared he knew he was left behind. He openly laughed at his situation, getting up and watching the eagles (now specks) fly in the distance with the dwarves and Gandalf.

“Predictable birds,” Bilbo said with a smile.

The eagles didn’t throw all the orcs and wargs off the cliff. Some of them were still there and were staring to where their prey disappeared to. Azog was the only one looking at the hobbit, and he was grinning. “ _The dwarf scums left you to die. The weak link, sacrificed to sate the hunters._ ”

Bilbo didn’t even bother to look at him. His head was too distracting to care. “Actually it was the eagles who left me. Can’t really blame them. They’d be helping an enemy if they did.”

Azog was shocked that the hobbit had understood him and snarled, “ _You are no enemy of the birds._ ”

The hobbit stood, “I’m the biggest enemy they have. I don’t look it, but trust me I am.” He finally bothered to give the orc a glance.

“ _Pathetic weakling!_ ” Azog took a stance to attack and grinned, “ _I will hang your head as a trophy, so called enemy of the birds._ ”

“You don’t want to do this. You’re going to regret it.” Bilbo said, warningly. “Then again, I know a dwarf king who claimed you to be dead. I don’t want to disappoint him by letting you go alive. It would break his poor heart.”

Azog roared and charged, “ _I will hang his head next to yours!_ ”

Bilbo took a deep breath. He really didn’t feel like fighting traditionally. And besides, Azog was on a warg, it was only fair. He released his fire just as the white warg was about to jump, covering the entire ground and setting the dead grass alight. The warg whined and stopped abruptly, nearly knocking his rider over.

Azog looked at Bilbo in a new light, eyes wide with horror. His followers were all backing away, cowering from the revelation they just made. “ _Dragon!_ ” The pale orc shouted, grasping the mistake he had just made, “ _Dragon!_ ”

Bilbo winked and grinned, “Too late.” From his tiny hobbit body fire began spewing everywhere, landing directly on the white warg who whined and howled from the pain of his fur burning off and then his skin. Azog cried with an inhumanly sound as he too burned along with his warg. The pale orc was waving helplessly, trying to put out the fire.

Bilbo was laughing now, loud and clear for the night to hear, “What’s the matter? Can’t fight against the enemy of the birds? You couldn’t even tell what I was?” he released more fire and aimed at the pale orc’s followers. None of them moved out of his way fast enough. “Come on then! I’m just a pathethic weakling, am I not? The dwarves left me as a sacrifice for the hunters. Come and take me!” He was having too much fun.

With the orc and warg followers burning alive, Bilbo stalked over to Azog, who was still crying in pain. He watched in fascination as the orc’s body melted. His skin was disappearing and his face was turning into an unnatural and unrecognizable state. The warg was already long gone by the time he stood next to the two. Not even bone was left behind.

He remembered the joy the sight used to bring him. Oh how he missed this.

Bilbo grinned. Azog was now shorter then him, before towering over his hobbit body and now not even reaching his waist. “Compliments of Thorin.” The hobbit said, darkly. “And do say hello to every other orc I have killed. Fire knows this land doesn’t have enough of those. You pests.”

Azog the Defiler was no more than a burnt pile of ash. Pity really. After hearing so much about him Bilbo thought he’d put up more of a fight. Then again he sort of kind of cheated using his fire. But really, it was the orc’s own fault. The goblins managed to figure out what he was inside the caves. Why didn’t the orcs?

Looking around he got his answer.

What most of the creatures smelled on his was the fire burning inside. The land was covered with it, courtesy of Gandalf. The orc could never smell the fire, or the wargs, because fire was everywhere. They couldn’t just pinpoint one out.

With the adrenaline gone the pain of his head injury came back full force. Bilbo saw spots as he nearly fell down from the dizziness. Just before collapsing from the pain he heard movement and turned just in time to spot an orc running for his life.

 _Oh dear_ , Bilbo thought. _I let one escape._

The screech of an eagle was the last thing he heard before he fell unconscious.

Then he heard muttering and worried whispers. They were all around him and each had their own voice. One particular voice grew louder and louder, speaking words that sounded more like spells. Bilbo knew the voice, and so didn’t feel the need to get up and lash out at the person for casting a spell. He had enough curses to last for a lifetime, but knowing it was Gandalf doing the spells he relaxed and allowed the enchanting to happen.

The spell was making it easier for him to open his eyes. Gandalf wanted him to wake up. When he did he found the old wizard hovering worriedly over him, sighing when he noted his opened eyes.

“Gandalf..?” Bilbo tried saying but came out as a whisper. He remembered that Gandalf had flown away with the dwarves on eagles and he was left behind. Did Gandalf come back for him?

“It’s alright. You’re safe here with us.” The wizard reassured him.

Bilbo lifted up his upper body as best as he could, and spotted the dwarves circling around him, giving him mixed expressions of worry and relief. They were all together standing at a new spot on a rock, the hobbit noted. There was no land, meaning there was a long way down. But they were safe, and apparently had spare time to waste to distress over him. The dwarves he was personally acquainted with were closer than the others. They all looked desperate to move, stiffly standing still because they had no idea what to do or say. Bilbo nodded and gave them a tired smile.

“Hi,” He said lamely, and as if he was ordering an attack on himself the dwarves lunged and hugged the life out of him. And his bones too.

“Bilbo!” They all shouted. Kili and Ori were the first ones to grab a hold of him, hugging his chest. Fili and Bofur were behind. Dori walked around them, fussing and looking him over while Nori stood as still as he could, but from the way his fingers were twitching it was clear he wanted to do something as well. Bifur kept making rough hand movements, locking his fingers together and beating his chest. Bombur just looked happy to see him back.

“Bilbo, we thought you were dead!” Kili said as he hugged him roughly.

“Dead?” The hobbit managed, “Why on earth would you think me dead?”

“Because Nori saw you fall down with the goblins!” Ori explained. “We didn’t think you’d survive.”

Bilbo looked to the dwarf named. Nori shuffled on his spot, nodding to what Ori said. “The last thing I saw was you falling down with five other goblins on you. I tried going after you but I couldn’t.”

“We’ll, you weren’t wrong. Five goblins knocked me down and sent me falling, but I’m still here.” Bilbo admitted.

“We’re so glad to be proven wrong!” Fili said.

“It was Gandalf that told us to stay put when we got out the mountain.” Kili said, “He didn’t believe you gone and I’m glad we listened to him.”

“Of course,” Bilbo looked to the wizard, who nodded, and grinned, “Gandalf knows me well and remembers that I have a second chance more than most do.”

“You weren’t kidding!” Bofur cheered.

Bilbo would never admit it, but the interactions _slightly_ warmed his chest. He smiled as they continued hugging him and shuffling around, but one of them made a wrong move and knocked against his injured hand while another bumped the back of his head. He yelped at the pain, closing his eyes, hoping to dull it. The dwarves standing and dwarves hugging picked up on it and backed away, slowly. When they didn’t move fast enough Thorin barreled in. “Let him go, can’t you see he’s injured!”

The dwarves hugging him jumped back as if burned and scattered away. Thorin was muttering something but the pain in his head muffled the sound out for Bilbo. Next thing he knew the dwarf that used the ear trumpet was kneeling in front of him, studying his face and later his arms until he finally noticed the insanely purple left hand of his. When had it turn that ugly shade?

The dwarves hissed at the sight. “When did this happen?” Asked the trumpet-dwarf that was apparently the company’s healer.

Bilbo looked away from the wound. He couldn’t stand the sight knowing it was his _own_. “I’m not sure, since Rivendell?”

“Rivendell?” Thorin marched over, “What happened in Rivendell for you to have gotten this? Was it the elves?” At him saying the elves all the dwarves gained a murderous look.

“What? No! This wasn’t any elf’s doing. I crushed my hand by accident. This was nobody but myself.”

“And you have been using this hand?” Healer dwarf asked.

“I kind of have to. If not I’d probably be somewhere in the bottom of the mountain after falling because of the Stone Giants right now, or be chewed by those wargs trying to climb the trees.” Bilbo noticed the youngest dwarves wince.

“Wait, you were hanging on and holding Ori with an injured hand?!” Dori cried out in horror. His sudden revelation caused all the dwarves to look at him in a new light. Bilbo noticed Thorin looking at the ground with a face of someone that had just eaten something extremely sour.

The hobbit should have felt some sort of joy from the sight but all he felt was sympathy. Then the spell was broken when Healer suddenly said, “You have blood on your hand.”

Bilbo looked at the hand he used when he first woke up after falling with the goblins. The dwarf was right; he still had specks of dried blood. “Ah, yes, I got wounded from the fall with the goblins.”

“Where?”

“Back of my head.”

Healer shuffled behind him, carefully examining the base of his skull. “What hit you back here? This wound is still opened. You shouldn’t be walking at all!”

“Is it that bad?” Bilbo wondered. Sure he got a wound that managed to make him bleed, but he didn’t know how grave it truly was for it to accomplish that.

“Bad? Bad! You should be on bed rest right now.” Healer said angrily.

“What hit you, Bilbo?” Kili asked.

“Goblins broke my fall but I still ended up hitting my head on a stone. I woke up using one as a pillow. What now?” Bilbo asked the healer.

“I need to get my hands on balms and find something to wrap this with. Luckily I carry them in my pockets instead of my pack, but I don’t have bandages.”

“I do!” Dwarf with a big red beard shouted.

“You carry bandages?” Healer asked Big Red.

“After spending all these years with you, you pick up things.”

Healer collected the bandages and slathered ointment on his hands. “This is going to hurt slathering it on. The wound is too open.”

Bilbo dry chuckled, “If it stops the pain I’ve been going through I’ll take anything.”

The dwarves all gave him a look of pity and winced when Healer made the first contact. Bilbo made a hissing sound that later changed to a painful shout as Healer added more and more ointment. When he was done Bilbo had tears in his eyes. “That was unnecessarily painful,” he muttered, not used to this kind of pain at all.

“Wounds aren’t supposed to be pain free,” said Healer. He carefully wrapped the bandages around the wound, circling Bilbo’s forehead and the base of his skull. The hobbit sighed when the pain dulled from the cool of the ointment.

“There’s nothing I can do about your hand.” Healer admitted, “That’s going to have to be on its own. I can wrap it up if you want. Just don’t use it.”

“No guarantees,” Bilbo muttered, looking over his hand. In-between the spaces of his fingers Gandalf’s face came through. They exchanged looks quietly and agreed they needed to speak when they had the chance.

But first, they were all still on top of a stone feet away from the ground. It looked like a long climb, and he had an army of concerned dwarves that looked like they weren’t going to let him go easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like before please tell me what you thought about this update. This chapter and the last were some of the main reasons and scenes why I wanted and began writing this. So let's say these two are the grandfathers of this fic!


	17. The Talk Of Mates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten dwarves down, three more to go.

Bilbo couldn’t breathe. Not because his head injury was worse than first thought and had possibly rewired his whole body to forget how lungs worked, but because dwarves upon dwarves were hovering all over him, worried and full of concern for his injuries. He was nearly suffocating from all the caring they showed. Kili, Fili Ori and Bofur were bad but Dori was the worst of them all.

When Trumpet-dwarf finished wrapping his hand and checking him over the others took it as a cue to continue their smothering scene, but instead of trying to hug the life out of him they were checking his wounds and endlessly asking if he was alright.

“For the last time I’m fine.” Bilbo said after the 15th ‘Are you in any pain?’ and 28th ‘Are you alright?’

This didn’t reassure any of the dwarves. They didn’t ask after that but they still hovered and gazed at his hand and his head worriedly. When Bilbo made to move it sent the dwarves into a panic. Dori was the one who placed his hands forcibly on Bilbo’s shoulders and kept him seated. The dwarf fussed and said ‘Don’t move or you’ll make it worse!’

Healer dwarf was the one who said Bilbo shouldn’t move or he’ll strain his wounds and all the dwarves took his orders to heart, not even giving the hobbit the chance to think of moving a finger from his non-broken hand. And so he sat on the center of the balanced formation of stone that the eagles, apparently, had dropped them on. He stared at the distance with his eyes half closed and looking like he wanted to murder the collection of dwarves he called his own. Blocking the sounds they were making his eyes caught sight of something just over the land on the horizon; something big enough to be seen from their spot and something tall enough to show the shape of a mountain.

“Is that-?” Bilbo said without thinking.

All the dwarves and wizard followed his gaze, gaping at the sight he was positive was the Lonely Mountain. It had to be. It was the only mountain on its own that followed the same direction they were heading for. With the company distracted Bilbo stood up and sneaked to the front of the assortment, managing to reach Thorin’s side and staring with them.

“Our home.” Thorin said with pride.

Bilbo nodded, “Your home. You’re now this much closer to it.”

The spell was broken the moment he said this as all the fussy and worried dwarves realized he was standing up and came barreling and shouting at him for being foolish and causing himself more harm. Bilbo was on the verge of possibly releasing a bit of flames just to scare them into giving him more space. He wasn’t used to being cared for this much and so didn’t know how to handle it. The notion gave him a warm feeling but it was becoming too much. It was almost overpowering.

“Will you all stop it!” Bilbo growled but was ignored. He seemed to be losing his touch because not a single one of the dwarves even flinched from his glare.

“You shouldn’t push yourself.” Healer said, repeating his orders for the umpteenth time.

“Honestly! I survived the giants with an injured hand and managed to still avoid the orcs and wargs. I won’t break just from standing.”

“Well, yes but you’re not being chased anymore. Rest now,” Said Dori.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. There was no getting through to them. It was a good thing he had a wizard on his side.

“Alright, that’s enough from all of you. You will find that our burglar is more enduring than you think. If we wait here for him to heal then the sun will fade from us and we will be easy pickings for our enemies in the night. Come, we must climb down and make as much distance as we can.” Gandalf tapped the ground with his staff and walked to the edge of the Carrock.

“Are you mad, wizard? Our burglar is in no condition to climb down this place.” Thorin grounded, earning a surprised look from Bilbo and some of the dwarves.

“I managed to run from wargs, climb on trees and save your life. I believe I can manage a simple climb on my own pace.” Bilbo followed after Gandalf, trying to avoid making his wobbling steps obvious. With his back to Thorin he never noticed the dwarf king’s look of guilt. He also didn’t notice the look quickly replaced with determination.

“Burglar!” Thorin raced to the hobbit, revealing his own set of injuries.

Bilbo turned and expected for the king to express his opinion on him saving his life, and he wasn’t disappointed.

“I said to you that you should never have come with us. You put my company in danger when you couldn’t pull yourself up. You nearly got yourself killed and you ran around with a life-threatening injury!” Well, that last part wasn’t what Bilbo expected. And he certainly wasn’t expecting, nor prepared for, when Thorin suddenly wrapped his arms around him, being careful to avoid his head injury and giving him a smothering hug. Bilbo stiffened at the contact, eyes wide from the shock of what exactly was happening. Had he lost his mind from the head injury? It would certainly explain why the dwarf king, who expressed his obvious distaste of the hobbit since the beginning, was suddenly hugging him out of nowhere.

“I have never been so wrong in my life.” Thorin said through the hug. “You saved my company even though you were injured and risked your life to keep us safe.”

Bilbo remained motionless as he tried to regain his wits and thought process. When he finally managed a brain activity he realized that the king was basically, in a sense, trying to apologize to him. There was a chuckle in the back of his mind. It must have tasted extremely sour for Thorin to have said that. Behind the king the company cheered, clapped and smiled.

The hobbit never returned the hug, but it seemed Thorin guessed he wouldn’t because he released Bilbo from his hold and still had a smile on his face. “I thank you, Burglar.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We still have to get to the bottom and reach your mountain.”

Thorin lost his smile and nodded seriously.

Healer was still not done with him, however. “Are you sure you can make the climb down?”

Bilbo sighed in frustration. “I’ll manage the journey. Stop worrying.”

“Worrying about injuries is my job.”

“Then you can check me once we reach the bottom if you’re that concerned. Let’s get a move on before we lose any more light.” Bilbo made to turn and walk when Thorin abruptly placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen again. This was too much physical contact in one day.

“Dori, Bombur,” Thorin barked, “you both take our Burglar’s sides. Make sure he doesn’t come into any more harm.”

Too tired to argue, Bilbo allowed the dwarves to stand really close to him as they started the journey down. He managed halfway through without incident when out of nowhere a dizzy spell decided to hit him and caused him to lose his grip. Bombur was right in front and managed to grab his uninjured hand to keep him in place. Dori, who was behind him, did the only logical thing he could think of with his fussy parental brain. He grabbed Bilbo, lifting him from the ground, and carried him the rest of the way down. Bilbo was livid and completely embarrassed from the action. He kicked and shouted and had a mind to set Dori’s arms ablaze.

When they reached the bottom Bilbo turned to give Dori the scolding of a lifetime but Healer stood in his way and ordered him to sit down as he checked his state. The hobbit was emotionally and physically exhausted so he sat heavily without complaint, though he did give Healer and Dori seething looks. The rest of the dwarves finally decided to stop focusing on him and actually focus on their respected selves and fellow companions, leaving Bilbo at the mercy of the healer and his Big Red friend.

He sat and waited as patiently as he could. What else was there to check on him? Healer already bandaged up his wound not that long ago and there was no new injuries that he knew of. There was no point to having a second examination so soon.

“If you wish to say something to me you can just go ahead and say it.” Bilbo said to Healer and Big Red since it was obvious they were there for other reasons.

Big Red grunted as Healer said, “I really am checking to see if you managed to get more injuries and refuse to tell us about it. You did so with your hand. What’s to say you won’t do it again?”

“If I promise to tell you the moment I get a cut will you stop?”

“No, but I’ll worry less.” Healer stood up in front of Bilbo when he was done, “I also wish to say thank you.”

“Oh?”

“Aye, me too,” said Big Red, “you saved me when you pulled me up and onto another tree when the wargs attacked us. If you hadn’t, well, I wouldn’t be standing here right now, probably in one of those beasts’ jaws.”

“The same goes for me,” Healer added.

“Great, you’re welcome. Now, can we get a move on?” Bilbo rose up.

“Oin,” Healer revealed.

“And I’m Gloin.” Both dwarves gave a quick bow. “We never introduced ourselves.”

Bilbo sighed, “No, no we didn’t,” he mimicked the bow, “Bilbo, but I apparently also go by the name Burglar.”

“What name do you wish to go by?” The newly named Oin asked.

“I’m partial to my given name, so Bilbo is just fine. If you wish to call me Burglar then by all means. Thorin is already doing it.”

“Aye, Burglar does have a good ring to it.” Gloin bellowed. By his fire, does the dwarf always speak that loud? Bilbo wondered.

“Am I needed for anything else? Could we possibly get a move on?”

“That all depends on our king. Are you sure you’re good for walking?” Oin gave him another quick check-up with his eyes.

“Yes I’m absolutely sure. This isn’t my first injury. I’ll be fine.” Bilbo lied.

“I’ll tell Thorin to go at a slow pace.”

“No! No. A normal pace is fine. I won’t fall apart from walking.”

“You nearly fell down from just climbing.” Oin argued.

“But I didn’t because I have all of you dwarves watching my every movement. I probably won’t even be able to raise a toe without one of you catching it now.”

“You can move them?” Gloin asked while eyeing the hobbit’s feet.

“Of course I can move them! Just because my feet are bigger doesn’t make them any different from yours.” Bilbo cried in outrage. The nerve of these dwarves.

“Alright, enough. You shouldn’t be shouting. I’ll tell Thorin to go at a normal pace once everyone is back on their feet. The moment you feel any discomfort you tell me right away.” Oin ordered.

“I’ll promise it to you if you can get Dori to back off a bit from his fussing.”

“I can’t do the impossible. That you will have to handle yourself.” Oin turned and walked towards Thorin and the rest of the dwarves. Gloin followed after him.

Bilbo groaned and tried getting away with taking a few steps to the opposite direction of the company but the moment his first step touched the ground he suddenly had Dori, Ori, Kili, Fili and Bofur on him. He looked up to the sky in exasperation, watching the sun barely rise and signal the morning. It was going to be a long day.

When Thorin finally ordered the march to begin Bilbo’s collection of dwarves grew to include Bombur, Bifur, Nori and now Oin. These nine dwarves formed a circle around him, Dori being the closest to him and watching his every step like a dragon. Bilbo had to praise him on that.

Even though Oin promised to tell the king to lead on a normal pace the walk was excruciatingly slow. Clearly, Thorin was just as worried as the rest. Somehow, near the end of the day, they managed to make a distance from the Carrock as the sun began to set in. Bilbo was exhausted by the time the king decided on a spot to camp out, but he’d never say it to the dwarves. It would only cause even more panic and he was not too keen on the idea of being carried. Bilbo was positive that Dori or Bombur would come to that idea if they knew.

Without their packs that were lost to the goblins they didn’t have the right equipment to start a proper camp or even make food. They had to settle for apples that by sheer luck were plentiful near their spot. Bilbo found he wasn’t even that hungry and only ended up eating about three; something that was a shock. Even to him. He was too tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. But there was one thing he still needed to do, and that was to speak with Gandalf.

He found his opportune moment when the old wizard decided to take a walk and look around. A clear sign that it was time for the two of them to talk about what happened. Bilbo excused himself from the dwarves and followed after the wizard. He found him sitting down on giant roots from a fairly tall tree. The wizard looked relaxed to the untrained eye, but Bilbo could tell right away that the wizard was anything but. Gandalf’s body was rigid against the trunk of the tree. His face was serious and through the fuzz of his beard his lips were in a thin line. His fingers tapped against his knees. A habit of his that showed when there was plenty on the wizard’s mind.

Bilbo walked over and sat next to him. “Shall we get to the point then?”

“Perhaps. Is there anyone nearby that can hear our conversation?”

The hobbit listened for any nearby dwarves but found none. “No. We are alone. For now.”

“What happened to Azog?”

That wasn’t the first question Bilbo expected Gandalf to ask. “Azog is no more. I killed him and his followers.”

“You revealed to them what you are?”

“They managed to guess it. A hobbit spitting fire isn’t exactly that hard to figure out.” Bilbo said with dark humor.

“Did any manage to escape?”

“There was one. My injury got in the way and caused me to blackout. The thing escaped, running for his life like a coward.”

“There isn’t exactly any other way to run for one’s life.” Gandalf made a noise as he thought over the answer. “At the moment we are in the clear, then. Thorin will be delighted to hear that Azog is finally gone.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“No.” Gandalf said with all the seriousness that a wizard could muster. “And neither will you.”

“Why ever not? Wouldn’t this be the kind of news to be shared? Especially if you’re the enemy of the one who got taken care of. Thorin needs to know his enemy is no longer in this world.” Bilbo was baffled by Gandalf’s logic. Surely this was something to be known. Not kept as a secret.

“We cannot say anything because if Thorin knows then he will relax and let his guard down. There are more dangers on the road. If these dwarves believe their enemy is gone they will get sloppy. We need them as alert as they can be.”

“Is there a bigger threat out there?”

Gandalf nodded gravely. “I believe so.”

The hobbit accepted it. “Then you have my word I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you, my friend. Now, let us get to the matter at hand. Broken bones? A head injury?” Even though these were serious issues there was a twinkle of mirth in the wizard’s eyes.

“It surprised me too. Don’t think you’re the only one. I injured my hand in Rivendell when I punched the wall. I didn’t even realize it was broken until I felt the pain afterwards. This is a strange feeling, Gandalf.” Bilbo raised his bandaged up broken-hand to his eye level. He grimaced at the sight it made. “I don’t like this feeling, this pain. I shouldn’t be experiencing pain.”

“Perhaps something is occurring.” Gandalf motioned for the hand and held it gingerly to study. “Perhaps this is the sign you’ve been looking for after so many years.”

“You don’t mean- but- how is that possible-? Nothing has even happened!” Bilbo kept in mind to whisper in case curious dwarves decided to poke their heads around, but he was at his emotional peak and was exhausted beyond belief. Whispering could wait.

“Many things have happened. You just haven’t realized it. Have you ever gotten injuries in our past voyages together? A scratch? A sprained ankle?”

“Never. Not even a paper cut. My skin is made of stone and my bones iron. Getting any kind of injury is impossible.”

“And yet here you are with an injury evident on your hand and head. You are not as durable as you think anymore.”  

Bilbo looked at his injured hand in new light. “You believe this has something to do with my curse?”

Gandalf nodded. “Something is obviously different. If this has never happened before it could only mean one thing.”

“The curse is fading.” Bilbo whispered. “The curse is actually fading, but I don’t understand. What is doing this?”

“Think my dear boy!” The wizard said with newfound mirth. “What is different from our previous travels and who are involved?”

“The _d-dwarves_?” Bilbo stuttered, “You can’t mean that.”

“Do you have another explanation then? I’m all ears.” Gandalf’s smile had too much confidence in it.

Bilbo didn’t. He really didn’t have any other explanation or possibility as to why he was suddenly breathing fire and getting injuries. Everything led to the dwarves. They were behind it somehow. He didn’t know how and he didn’t like it, but there was no point arguing against it. They were helping him break his curse. Something he’s always wanted. They were getting him closer to being set free. Now if only he knew how they were doing it. With a sigh of defeat he hunched over and faced the ground.

The dwarves playing a part in breaking his curse meant that he now had to rely on them. Bilbo hated relying on others. It showed he was weak and incapable of handling anything by himself. On top of that it meant his freedom was all up to them to decide. Should they ever figure it out.

“These dwarves have power over my being.” Bilbo muttered, “They have power over me. I don’t like this.”

Gandalf hummed. “Perhaps it’s not a bad thing they do. These dwarves seem to care for you deeply. It would be more problematic if they disliked you.”

Bilbo snorted. “These dwarves do dislike me.”

“Worried over your well-being and concerned if you push yourself. Yes, clearly they dislike you.”

“Thorin certainly does.” Bilbo reminded him.

“On the contrary, do you know the first thing Thorin asked when he awoke after being rescued?” At Bilbo’s ‘no’ he continued. “The first thing he asked was for you. Thorin wanted to know where you were and if you were alright.”

Bilbo frowned, “What? Why would he-?”

“I would like to think it was because he was worried about you and cares. It is possible to grow fond of someone even if you started on bad terms. I believe our dwarf king has grown fond of you. I also believe you have grown fond of him in return.” Gandalf provoked, earning an outcry from Bilbo.

“ _Me_? Grown fond of that king? Gandalf you have smoked too much. You’re losing your mind.”

“Well, why not?” Gandalf teased. “You managed it with Radagast and I, our friend Elrond and even his sons. What’s to stop Thorin from becoming a friend?”

“I hate dwarves.” Bilbo growled with less malice than before the journey started. He didn’t notice.

Gandalf nodded seriously, “Of course. That’s why you are allowing them to hover over you and care for your injuries and well-being. I have the idea of a loving friendship all wrong.”

“ _Loving_ _friendship_?” The hobbit repeated the words in disgust, “I don’t hold any kind of _loving_ _friendship_ with them.”

“Then you hold a type of love reserve for mates?” Gandalf laughed when the hobbit nearly choked on his own tongue.

“Are you mental?! _Mates_? With those _dwarves_? How did that thought even crossed your mind? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” Bilbo coughed and tried to regain his breath. “There is nothing remotely attractive on any of those dwarves.”

“Physical attraction isn’t everything.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes and refused to answer anymore. This kind of conversation was the last thing he wanted to speak about. _Mates_. Bah! Bilbo had no time for mates, and he was never going to search for one in these dwarves.

Having heard enough for one night, Bilbo got up and made to leave, but not before another thought crossed his mind. “How did you convince an eagle to return for me?”

“I didn’t.” Gandalf revealed, “When I summoned them I made it especially clear to also carry a fiery friend disguised as a hobbit. Obviously they didn’t and left you behind.”

Bilbo frowned. “Then how did I wake up with all of you?”

“You yourself convinced Lord Meneldor. He waited behind and watched you as you fought the orcs. He needed a solid reason to even lift a talon to help you. Killing Azog seemed to have done the trick. When he dropped you off with us he left a message. He said for you to not ruin your second chance.”

“Not ruin my second chance?” Bilbo repeated, “ _What_ second chance?”

The wizard shrugged. “He didn’t specify, but he sounded serious.”

“Of course he sounded serious. He wasn’t going to say anything to me with a joyful tone. He just had a dragon in-between his claws. He had nothing to be happy about in that.” On that final note Bilbo marched away and returned back to the camping sight where all the dwarves looked ready to huddle together and sleep. They didn’t have bedrolls so they had to make do with soft soil.

Bilbo on the other hand couldn’t rely on the soft soil. His head injury prevented him from lying down comfortably. For as long as the injury remained on his person he’d have to get used to sleeping sitting up. He found a tree with no roots on the ground to cause discomfort and accepted his new sleeping arrangement of sitting down with his back against the trunk and his head dangling down to his chest. He was going to wake up with neck cramps in the morning.

With his eyes closed his ears heightened and he heard the cackling of the fire and the shuffling of the dwarves. His body and mind were exhausted and in any minute he was going to be taken by the blissfulness of sleep, but before that the footsteps of multiple bodies was heard crunching on the dried leaves on the ground and they were getting closer. Bilbo’s eyes shot open when a warm body was suddenly pressed against his side. He was surprised and yet not surprised at the same time when he realized it was Dori who took up his right side and adjusted himself to sleep. Shortly after him came Ori and Nori, who took up their brother’s side and sat near Bilbo’s legs. The hobbit’s left side was reserved for Bofur who was followed by Bombur and Bifur, all three mimicking the ‘Ri brothers. And of course it wouldn’t be complete without Fili and Kili laying down right in front of his feet. What took the icing on the cake were Oin and Gloin lying closer to Bilbo’s side of the camp instead of Thorin’s.

They were all divided. Bilbo and his dwarves were on one side while Thorin, Balin and Dwalin were on the other. The three dwarves looked at the arrangement with different expressions. Balin looked on with a smile on his face and even gave a nod in understanding; as if there was a reason why they were doing this. Dwalin had a frown. He was studying Bilbo, trying to decide if this development was a good thing or an extremely bad thing. Thorin had the face of someone who was watching his favorite item in the whole world get taken away from him. He looked at the assortment of dwarves surrounding Bilbo and then looked at Bilbo himself, his frown growing with each change.

Looking at the dwarves filled Bilbo’s chest with warmth. Then he remembered what Gandalf had said about having grown to love them, in a friendly way. With a bit of annoyance Bilbo took back what he said to Gandalf about the dwarves. They were charming, in their own irritating and by far maddening kind of way, and he found that _maybe_ having a friendship with them wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

If it meant freeing him of his curse then Bilbo would accept anything.

Sighing and being careful not to accidentally bump someone with the little space he had, Bilbo dropped his head. Just before looking at nothing but ground he caught the eyes of Thorin and for a second they stared at each other. He felt his chest rumble a bit before he broke eye contact with the king and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Hope you enjoy this progressive filler. Beorn is next, are you excited?


	18. Meet Beorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something affects Bilbo, and they finally reach Beorn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment of truth is upon us! Enjoy!

Bilbo did not like this. Not one bit.

There were many things he didn’t like, but right now he didn’t like what had happened the following morning after the huddle of dwarves circled him protectively. When he awoke he was surprised to find nearly the entire company up and awake already. Not a single one of them managed to stir his sleep.

That last statement was never meant to exist together in a sentence.

Dwarves weren’t built for sneaking around, and with Bilbo’s high sensitive ears the odds of it happening to him were near impossible. Somehow, it still happened.

That wasn’t what he was complaining about. No, it was the checkup Oin gave him after he woke up that did the trick. Bilbo was stirred awake by him shaking his shoulder gently. The healer wanted to check on his head injury to make sure it didn’t get worse during the night. Bilbo’s tired mind didn’t understand the request, but he unconsciously followed Oin’s orders to have his back face him so he could unwrapped the bandages. While the bandages were being removed Bilbo’s mind began to catch up with the day. That was when he spotted all the dwarves up and about.

“How long have all of you been awake?”

Oin looped the bandage over. “We’ve been awake for about an hour now.”

“What?” Bilbo hissed, “And none of you bothered to wake me?”

“Didn’t want to disturb ya. You need your rest.”

In the back of his throat Bilbo growled at the gesture that was meant to be thoughtful, but only infuriated him. Others wide awake and moving around didn’t sit well with him if he was asleep while they were doing it. They could have done something without his knowledge. They could have gone off and talked about mutiny against him and he wouldn’t be prepared to fight them off. He also hated the idea that he was relying on them to keep enemies away for that hour he was asleep.

The growl he emitted from the back of his throat wasn’t a hobbit-capable kind of growl at all. It was actually an animal growl that he didn’t realize he was doing. It was a predator growl that terrified hatchlings in the middle of the night, and it could have only come from one source in him. He felt the bandages on his head get yanked abruptly. Oin stood straight and searched the land for any potential predators.

“What was that?” He asked with his hands clutching the wrappings.

“What was what?” Bilbo played ignorant. How foolish was he to allow someone to catch him? The dwarf was deaf; perhaps he could use that to his advantage. He was a bit surprised that the dwarf even managed to hear his growl.

“I heard something. It sounded like a beast.”

Bilbo gestured to the other dwarves scattered around, “I didn’t hear anything, and none of them are looking around for the sound. Are you sure you heard something?”

Oin frowned, “No, perhaps not. It was probably just me. Strange. I never just hear anything.”

“Imagined it probably?”

“Maybe.”

Oin continued the checkup, a bit more stiffly than how he began. Bilbo himself was rigged and made sure not to cause any sort of noise. Finally, the last loop of wrapping came loose and off came the bandages. Bilbo waited patiently for the dwarf to look over the wound and for him to say some bad news about it. Bad news seemed to be the only thing following Bilbo these days.

“I don’t believe this.” Oin said and sounded shocked.

“Has it gotten worse? Did I get a new injury without knowing?”

“No. The wound. It has healed.”

That wasn’t what Bilbo expected. Wasn’t a wound healing a good thing? “And that’s bad?”

“Not if it’s this fast! The wound looks a week old!”

Bilbo felt his heart stop. A week old? What did that mean? Was that unnatural to the dwarves? He was finally getting injuries, but were they healing in unnatural speeds? He needed to think fast. “How long do injuries take to heal?”

“Certainly not this fast!” Oin shouted as if Bilbo was a simpleton.

He ignored it, an idea appearing in his head. “How long does it take for dwarves?”

“You mean to tell me this is _natural_ for hobbits?”

“Of course.” Bilbo played it off, “We hobbits are weak and defenseless. If not for our wounds healing quickly none of us would be alive today. We need our bodies injury free if we wish to escape from danger.”

“Incredible.” Oin said with amazement. “So this is a natural occurrence? Is that why you weren’t so concerned about your wounds yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought this happened with everyone, but I’ve forgotten that you dwarves aren’t hobbits and weren’t aware of it.”

“That’s a useful skill, indeed. With this I’d be out of business.”

“You’re still required, though. I needed it bandaged up.” Bilbo remarked, not knowing it was complimenting the dwarf.

“It certainly makes my job easier. One patient to worry about less.” Oin peaked over to get a look of the hobbit’s hand. “Is it the same with your hand?”

Bilbo lifted his hand to look over. No surprise there, the hand was healing beautifully with only specks of blue left. He moved a finger to test the pain. He hardly felt anything. “Hand is healing. No pain at all.”

“A true gift you have there, Burglar. Would certainly make us all jealous.”

Bilbo continued staring at the hand absentmindedly. “Yes, a true gift.” He muttered with no purpose.

He did not like this. Things were happening to his body without his control. If one dwarf, one single dwarf, were to catch him when this happened, then his entire secret will be revealed. He’d be forced to expose what he truly was. What his true form is. He’d reveal to the dwarves that he was the very creature they were on a journey to fight against. He was of the same race as the beast that flew down in wind and fire and took their mountain. No doubt killing and burning many lives in the process. How would they react to the knowledge?

How would Bilbo when they realize it?

Remembering his life as the beast that brought death and destruction, his mind was filled with images of men and elves crushed between his claws. His ears filled with the screams of dwarves being split apart between his fangs. Dwarves shouted in pain as they were burned alive from his fire, the very fire that coursed through his vein. He looked to the company. He looked at his dwarves. He looked at Ori, and thought about how the possibility of he having eaten one of Ori’s ancestors becoming too real. He could have killed an ancient family member of Bofur and Bombur. He could have burned the very first dwarf in Kili and Fili’s line. Thorin’s line.

Bilbo had dwarven blood on his hands. He had the blood of his dwarves’ kin painted all over his body and inside. Nausea hit him suddenly at the thought.

Why was he suddenly thinking about the wrongs he had done?

Perhaps – Bilbo looked at each of the dwarves – because he has killed, killed the kin of his friends, of those he cared about, and those he felt protective of. Bilbo Baggins killed many dwarves, dwarves that could have been Ori and Dori, Nori and Bofur, Kili and Fili, Bombur, Bifur, Oin and Gloin. He could have killed Thorin. These dwarves had done nothing wrong except live and survive, protecting and raising their family. Bilbo – no – _Endis_ was the beast that came down and took their lives away. He was the very creature that took away Dori and Nori’s home, all of their homes.

He couldn’t think of this right now. Why were his memories as a dragon that brought him joy and longing before suddenly caused him guilt?

Oin finished wrapping a new set of bandages around his wound and when he was announced in the clear Bilbo rushed away from the dwarf and the rest. He couldn’t get away from them fast enough. His chest hurt and his throat was sore. He felt breathing was a difficult task to accomplish. His eyes blurred a bit as he stood behind a tree, trying to hide away from sight. “Why was I the one picked to suffer through this?” He asked no one.

He remained standing like this as the dwarves continued their own activities. This was how Balin found him when the question of “Where’s our burglar” arose. The hobbit was standing with his injured hand pressed against his chest and the other dangled by his side. His head hanged as he stared at the ground at nothing. His curls hid the top of his face, shadowing his eyes that were wide and unsure.

Balin cautiously walked to the hobbit and avoided spooking him by asking softly if he was alright. Bilbo didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. Balin was a wise dwarf and knew when something was not right just by looking.

“Come on now, laddie. We’re about to start the day.” Bilbo didn’t make a move to follow when Balin began walking, so the dwarf returned and grabbed his dangling arm to pull him along. The hobbit followed like a dwarfling would their mother.

The company witnessed this, many baffled as to why the hobbit needed to be pulled in the first place. Dori moved to comfort the distressed looking hobbit, but Balin raised a hand to halt him. He shook his head and told them on to continue what they were doing. The dwarves did, but not before each gave a look of concern to the hobbit. Balin assured them nothing was wrong, even when he himself didn’t believe it.

Like this they marched. Balin continued to lead Bilbo while the others circled around them. Thorin and Dwalin weren’t part of the circle but they did shoot looks at the pair. Gandalf seemed emotionless at the strange arrangement. His face showed neither concern nor joy from witnessing his friend’s odd behavior. The only indication he gave about what the hobbit was doing caused him mild alarm was the thin line his lips formed and the frown that occasionally appeared on his face.

Gandalf led them down a path to a destination only he knew. Without the orcs to worry about at the moment they walked a decent pace and reached the location of a grand home halfway through the day. He halted just before the forest opened to make a clearing. The home was evident in the center of the spot. It was grand, looked homely and was everything they needed at that moment.

“Now,” Gandalf started, “I will need to borrow one of you. The man who lives there is not fond of strangers, nor dwarves for that matter. Going in there all at once might not be the best course of action.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, wizard, we are all dwarves.” Thorin said.

“Which is why Bilbo will be coming with me.”

Bilbo lifted his head slightly but otherwise didn’t say anything. He pulled his arm away from Balin’s hold and walked to stand besides Gandalf. With a quick explanation of a plan and a fast “wait for my signal” the wizard and hobbit left and made their way to the house.

“Bilbo, I’ve been your friend long enough to know this mood is not befitting for you. Whatever is the matter?” Gandalf asked when they were about to reach the house. He stopped them both just before passing the garden and small path to the door.

Bilbo shook his head, “Nothing is wrong-”

“Bilbo Baggins do not even attempt that on me.” Gandalf grounded. He restraint himself to avoid treating the situation as a parent scolding their child. He was the dragon’s friend, not his father.

“It’s nothing you can help with, Gandalf. My mind, it’s tormenting me. It’s making me think of things… from my past. Unsavory things.” Bilbo looked up since the start of the walk for the day. The wizard saw exactly how affected his friend was of his troubles. His eyes lacked the sparks that the dragon always carried and his face looked shades paler. The hobbit looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.

“I see.” Gandalf murmured in concern. “How long have they been affecting you?”

“They started in the morning. It just- happened.”

“Will you be able to continue?”

“What?” Bilbo blinked, “Of course I’ll be able to continue!”

“I’m not sure, Bilbo. If you can’t handle this journey anymore-”

A frown appeared on the hobbit’s face. Already, his face gained a few shades of color back. “I _can_ handle this journey. Who do you take me for? I’ve been through worse on all your other insane and chaotic adventures.”

“Can you? You just told me your mind is being plagued with unsavory thoughts.” Gandalf faked an unconvinced look, his plan going accordingly.

“They’re just thoughts!” Bilbo growled, all his color returned on his face. “It doesn’t mean I’m about to roll over and give up.”

“You looked like you were about to.”

“Well I’m not! Enough of this,” Bilbo threw his arms up, “what are we doing here and who lives in that house?”

Gandalf smiled at the sight of his friend back on his feet. He faced the house, “This is our shelter for the day, if we manage to persuade him. His name is Beorn, and he will be difficult to convince.”

“Is that so? Then why are we here?”

“This is the only house for many leagues, and we are short on materials.”

“We don’t have materials.” Bilbo stated the obvious.

“Exactly. We need to find shelter here.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Bilbo shuffled impatiently. “Are you knocking or am I?”

“None of us are.” Gandalf looked closely to the door. “Our host will greet us when he is ready.” As if on cue the door opened and out came a massive form of a man. The moment the man took the first step heading towards them Bilbo’s entire body stiffened. In the back of his mind the words ‘danger’ and ‘predator’ kept repeating over and over again.

It seemed the man also had the same reaction when he spotted him. The man’s eyes locked on the hobbit and sniffed the air as he got closer. In an instant the man went from cautious to threat when he realized who exactly were on his front door steps. He crouched down and bared his teeth, growling at the hobbit and wizard.

“What purpose do you have here?” The man asked the hobbit.

Bilbo mimicked the stance the man made and growled right back, bearing his own set of hobbit teeth.

“At ease!” Gandalf said to the two. “We do not come to cause harm! We come here asking for aid.”

“I will not help that beast.” The man, Beorn from what Bilbo remembered, said.

“You shouldn’t point fingers so easily.” Bilbo growled.

“Enough, both of you! Bilbo, this is no way to behave. What happened to those hobbit manners you always speak of.”

Understanding Gandalf had a point, Bilbo relaxed and stood straight again, but his body was still on the defensive side. He walked forward to stand in front of Gandalf, becoming a barrier between the wizard and the man.

The man caught and understood what the hobbit was doing. He lost his frown for a moment. Eventually, he also stood up straight, but took steps back from the pair. “What do you want?”

Bilbo would have said a sarcastic remark here, but seeing as they needed the man’s help he didn’t think Gandalf would approve of his dragon personality making the situation worse. Instead, he held himself back and allowed his friend to do the talking.

“We come asking for aid,” Gandalf repeated, “and shelter. We need materials and a place to rest.”

“And who are you?” The man growled, unmoved by the request.

“I am Gandalf.”

“Never heard of you.” The man looked to Bilbo.

“Bilbo Baggins.” Bilbo muttered.

“Never heard of you either.”

Gandalf was about to say something else when out of nowhere Bilbo gained a surge of defiance. “ _Endis_! Have you heard of _that_ name?”

Bilbo gained joy from seeing the way Beorn reacted at the name. He didn’t truly believe the man has heard of his name when he first said it, but it seemed it even reached the skin changer’s world. That was what the man was. He was a skin changer. Bilbo could smell it all over him. He had the body of a man, yet he carried the soul of an animal with him.

Beorn nearly toppled over as he backed two steps away. He clearly recognized the name and couldn’t believe he even heard it in the first place. “Endis? You speak of the dragon forced into the body of a man?”

“Yes, however it was not into the body of a man, as you can very well see. It was into the body of a hobbit.”

“That is only a myth.” Beorn looked unconvinced, but his eyes showed he believed there was truth to the tale.

“It is no myth.” Gandalf said. “The tale holds truth, and in front of you stands the dragon of the legend.”

“And why would that convince me to aid you? Dragon of legend or not, he is still a dragon.”

“Then don’t aid _me_!” Bilbo said in desperation, “Aid this wizard and aid the thirteen dwarves that need your help! Give them food and shelter and the materials they need to continue their journey. I will continue the walk alone and as far away from your home if that is what you wish, but please assist them, if not to at least get rid of me sooner.”

With his rant, Bilbo managed to both shock and surprise the wizard and skin changer. The skin changer was especially taken back by the bold statement and request from the dragon. He considered the dragon’s words and thought over if he should assist him and the party he was traveling with or not.

“The myth says you were cursed by the Valar as punishment for your actions. Why should I lift a finger for you, dragon?”

Bilbo couldn’t think of a response to that question, so Gandalf answered instead. “Because the myth only holds one part of the story. The tale of Endis still continues after that, should you wish to hear it.”

Beorn considered this. He looked between the wizard and the hobbit. The wizard was clearly the dragon’s friend. There must be a reason behind that. Dragons don’t make friends. “Perhaps I do. Is the tale interesting?” He asked the dragon.

“There are many stories in the tale you might find interesting.” Bilbo said.

Beorn nodded, “Then I will hear them. I only want the wizard inside to tell me the story.”

“I will stay here waiting until he’s done, but it is a long story.”

“My home is not going anywhere.”

And his home did not. It remained exactly where it was and didn’t move an inch. Bilbo still stood outside and sat after nearly an hour passed. He was joined by the company when they grew bored of hiding behind the trees. None of them had heard the conversation that took place between Bilbo, Gandalf and Beorn. Bilbo didn’t speak with any of them, but he enjoyed their presence and company.

It was another half-hour before movement happened inside the house. Like before the door opened to reveal the massive form of Beorn, who walked out with more confidence and had a large grin and a face of someone who just spent the last hour laughing until they turned blue. He released a bark of laughter when he spotted the dwarves and hobbit. “You fiery little creature!”

Bilbo threw his head back and stared at the man with wide eyes full of fear. _Not here! Don’t say anything in front of the dwarves!_

“Fighting back against those drunken men and arguing with a king! You’re stories are truly entertaining! I will give your friends aid and shelter for the night. Come inside.”

The dwarves gave Beorn suspicious looks but slowly they marched inside the house. Gandalf stood just inside the door and nodded to Bilbo, assuring him of something. Bilbo made to follow the dwarves, but Beorn stopped him from taking a step.

“Your tales are truly entertaining, dragon, even though they probably are not real.” Beorn said.

“What? Of course they’re real. Gandalf told you the tale of those drunken men in Gondor during a festival, correct? And he told you of the start of the journey when I first met Thorin and his kin? Gandalf didn’t lie. What purpose would it serve that we lie now? We’re asking for your help.”

“The purpose to help your dwarven friends acquire aid. Clearly they are important to you and you’d willingly sacrifice yourself to help them. Lying to soften your image also helps to gain trust.”

Bilbo glared. “They are not lies. They are my life. Getting cursed into this tiny body was only one part of my story, living in this body is the other.”

“And why should I believe you?” There was no getting through the skin changer.

“What do you want? Proof? I can’t prove those tales. They are my past.” A thought crossed Bilbo’s mind. “There was an attack. Did Gandalf explain about orcs hunting us just before arriving to your home?”

Beorn nodded. “He did.”

“Those orcs attacked us and forced us up trees. The eagles rescued the dwarves but left me behind for a time. I fought against Azog.”

“He also told that part. You expect me to believe you fought against orcs and killed their leader?”

“I do.” Bilbo said, patiently. “I set Azog on fire and killed his followers. The land is charred from my flames and covered in my blood from a wound I was given. If you go there you will smell it. You will smell my fire. The same you are smelling right now.”

“How do I know you’re not sending me to a trap?” Beorn narrowed his eyes.

“Fine! Then don’t go. If I can’t convince you then I ask of you to keep the dwarves and wizard under your roof. Give them what they need before you send them off again. I will continue the journey and wait for them. Tell them to search for me to the east.” Bilbo stood and began walking towards the direction he said.

“Wait here until I return.” Beorn suddenly said. “I will go and search for your fire, if you truly are not lying.”

“I’m not. You will find Azog’s ashes in the center of the flames.”

“Wait outside until I return. If you are telling the truth I will give your dwarves shelter until they are ready to leave, but if you are not then I expect you all to leave the upcoming morning.”

Bilbo nodded, accepting the proposal. “You have my word.”

“You are a dragon. Your word means nothing to me.”

“Then you have my word as a hobbit.”

“Your body may be different, but your soul is all the same. No shape you take will ever change that.” With that the skin changer began his journey to the spot the wizard and hobbit explained. He remained as a man until he reached the trees where the dwarves were hiding. There, Bilbo saw him change into another form, a grand form with thick hair covering his entire body. Even through the leaves and branches Bilbo saw the shape Beorn had taken. It was the shape of a bear and it released a massive roar in the sky as he disappeared in the forest.

Just like he had promised, Bilbo remained outside. Even when the sun descended and disappeared from the sky, even when the dwarves asked him why he refused to enter, and even when the cold of the night bit his nose and ears he still remained. When all the dwarves were sound asleep inside Bilbo took care of the icy winds by rumbling his chest and causing his fire to grow and expand through his veins. His body warmed up and through the cold night he could see steam radiate from his skin.

Bilbo stayed awake all through the night. He was amaze he even managed to say outside the house without any of the dwarves pulling or pushing him to enter. Gandalf probably said something to them. Either way, he was grateful for that. He needed to prove he wasn’t a danger to the skin changer, and he needed the skin changer’s trust if it meant shelter for the dwarves and wizard.

He managed to last a great deal awake during the night, almost making it to the morning, but his heavy eyes became impossible to keep open and sitting down in front of the house he slept.

The sun’s rays were what woke him up three hours later, that and the sounds of crunching footsteps walking closer. His eyes were still heavy but they were easier to keep open. The first thing he saw was the massive boot of Beorn right in front of him. When he looked up he found the serious face of the skin changer frowning down at him. Did he not find Azog’s ashes?

“I take it you didn’t find the ashes?” Bilbo sighed and rested his head against his knees. “They’ll be waking up soon. We’ll leave your home the moment they do.”

Beorn’s frown grew. “I did find the ashes.”

The hobbit lifted his head again. “Then what seems to be the problem? You don’t look happy to see Azog dead.”

“I do not understand you, dragon. Why would you kill the orc? The leader of a dark race such as yourself.”

Bilbo glared, choosing not to respond to the dark creature comment and ignore the sharp pain he felt in his chest. “That orc was hunting down my dwarves. They are not going to get killed. Not as long as I can help it.”

Beorn thought it over. “You are a strange creature, little dragon.”

“I’ve been getting that a lot lately.” The hobbit muttered and rested his head again on his knees, closing his eyes.

“As promise I offer my home for however long you and your dwarves need it.”

“Thorin is the one to decide how long we stay. Speak with him about that.” A silence followed them. Bilbo remained seated and Beorn continued to stand watching him. At least that was what Bilbo believed he was doing. The large man made no noise to indicate he left back inside his home, which could only mean he was still in front and staring at him for some reason or another.

“Do you plan on sleeping outside for the entire duration of your stay?” Beorn asked.

Bilbo glanced at him. “Am I allowed to venture inside your home? You didn’t exactly make it sound I was invited.”

“So long as you do not harm my animals you are allowed inside. There is no hunting.” The skin changer said sternly.

The hobbit shrugged. Sure he was a dragon but he currently had the stomach of a hobbit. He could live without eating meat. He wasn’t about to perish just because of that. “Nothing but green food and bread, I understand. I don’t harm others unless I have a solid reason to. Don’t cause harm to me and I won’t cause harm to you.”

Born didn’t know how to respond to the dragon’s uncharacteristic personality. “You are a mystery, little dragon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this lived up to what you all imagined meeting Beorn would be like! If it didn't, sorry!
> 
> Please read!! 4/3/15  
> Those of you may have noticed that the backstory chapter of the 'Ri brothers has been deleted. I did this because I didn't like how it turned out now that I went back and re-read everything. I'm going to re-type it again, but I'm not going to post it here. The dwarfs and any others are going to have their own little story. The reason why is because this story was all in Bilbo's perspective. I started off with nothing but his point of view and if I try and add any others I'll end up with a pile of mess trying to keep up with different backstories and emotions. I'm going to just focus on Bilbo from now on.


	19. Abandoning this work. Please read.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't continue this, but in exchange I'm showing the notes of what was going to happen if I had managed to finish this fic.

Hey, everyone! This is long overdue to happen and I'm sorry if I gave everyone false hope. It was not my intention but I can't let it keep going. It's not fair to me or to you. 

I'm throwing in the very large towel. I am unable to continue, let alone finish, this story. My love for anything the Hobbit or Lotr has diminished and no matter how much time I give myself or the attempts I take to return to the fandom, I just can't do it. After having a nasty argument with another fan I just couldn't continue. I hadn't expected something like that to happen. They ruined it for me right in the middle of trying to write this story. 

I had originally thought of just deleting this story from AO3, but too much work had been put to simply just make it disappear. So instead I'm going to post the draft I made of the entire thing to show what direction this was going and answer any questions the story had created. 

It's messy and unedited because that's just how I work. Probably won't make sense to most of you, but to me it was as clear as blue skies. Most of you, if not all, will probably get the basic idea of it, though. 

This story was going to be long, expanding from the Hobbit and going into Lotr, but I can barely even finish the Hobbit, let alone get to the Fellowship. 

So here you go. My draft of the entire story. 

* * *

 

Bilbo is a dragon who was cursed in the form of a harmless Hobbit, and the only way to break it and set himself free is by sacrifice. He becomes immortal, nothing can kill him, and his only freedom is death. Which, after so many years, he welcomes with open arms. The sacrifice is unclear. After years of failed attempts by means of volunteering in someone’s death sentence, or jumping in a fire to save children he has all but given up. With nothing to live for and no reason to continue on he is ready with his door open for death to finally appear. Instead, Gandalf appears before him with a quest to reclaim a lost kingdom. Bilbo agrees, seeing as he had nothing to lose. He didn’t count on the thirteen dwarves to possibly be the key for his sacrifice, but slowly and surely his abilities return the more he befriends the dwarves until he could finally breathe fire. He acquires the one ring, but until his friendship grows he is unaffected by it. He never uses it either.

In Mirkwood he strikes a deal with Thranduil to be set free, in exchange for his share of the gold. His friendship deepens, as does the rings temptation, and not until inside Erebor does it take full effect. The gold is tempting, as is joining Smaug.

Smaug reveals everything to the dwarves, taunts Bilbo and causes him to unleash fire. Bilbo, in return, taunts back in order to distract Smaug from killing the dwarves. They run and manage to hide until Smaug leaves for Laketown and is killed by Bard. The dwarves turn on him, threatening to kill. All the love and friendship Bilbo had for them disappeared the instant Thorin struck him, and because of that he survived the blow. He is ordered out of the mountain and away from them.

Regaining his senses he realized what was occurring. He returns to help Bard, and looks on worriedly for the dwarves. When Thranduil comes for his share, and Bard too, they are thrown out. When Gandalf returns with news of Dul Gundur Bilbo hands over the Arkentstone for them to strike a deal. He waits with Gandalf and Thranduil’s army until the war starts, and at the last minute runs for his dwarves. He saves Thorin from the final blow, sacrificing himself and waiting for death, but it never comes. The sacrifice wasn’t enough and he lives to see another day. His banishment still stands and his friends are not allowed to speak with him. He is not allowed inside Thorin, Fili’s and Kili’s tents to see how they fair. He leaves Erebor without any news of how any of the company are. His heart grows cold and he returns back to the shire with no hope for anything. That is, until he is given Frodo and a reason for living for the first time.

He raises Frodo and watches him grow, all the while the ring continues to affect him and he nearly strikes Frodo. He calls for Gandalf’s aid and together they realize the ring is the One Ring. Bilbo agrees to take the ring to Mordor, seeing as he cannot die, and has Gandalf accompany him. Frodo is left in the care of Hamfast, who he also gives temporary ownership of Bag End. Frodo still follows though, along with Sam, Merry and Pippin, and goes with them to Rivendell. Bilbo tries to leave them there but ultimately fails as Frodo follows with Aragorn.

Gandalf sneaks a letter to inform the dwarves of Bilbo’s quest and stating that it might be his last. Thorin doesn’t believe it and refuses to do anything involving the wyrm. Fili and Kili also receive the letter, given by Balin and they plan on sneaking away from Erebor and help Bilbo. They ask Thorin to allow it, but Thorin tries to reason with them that the dragon didn’t even check on them as they were healing. Fili and Kili still go. At night they ride out. Thorin catches them right on time and tries to get them back, but they refuse. Having no choice he agrees to go with them. Dwalin follows him. The Ri brothers agreed to tag along on the journey to save their friend. Bofur and Bifur also go. Gloin and Oin stay behind but in their absence Gimli sneaks into the group. Legolas joins them when they reach Lady Galadriel’s relm and hears one of the elves/dwarves mention Aragorn, or in Gandalf’s letter Estel.

Bilbo tries his best to keep them safe in the mines, his teeth, claws and fire making multiple appearances. When Gandalf dies his heart turns cold again, only melting slightly with Frodo’s prodding. This continues until orcs attacked and left Bilbo unconscious. He  survives but wakes up alone and with no ring. He wanders around until he comes across the dwarven company. He is not happy to see them. His heart grows colder and attempts to leave until he hears Merry and Pippin’s screams. Aragorn is defending them but can only do so much. Frodo and Sam are nowhere to be found.

Gandalf appears, warming Bilbo’s heart again and orders the hobbits and Aragorn to stay with the wizard. Bilbo could care less about the dwarves, but they stick to his side like glue. They find Frodo and Sam huddled together, orders the dwarves back and takes them to Mordor with him. Thorin refuses to be left behind and follows the dragon and two hobbits. Bilbo has mixed feelings, one of them being love that he doesn’t understand. When he explains it to Thorin, Thorin rejects him, stating that no king of the mountain could possibly love a dragon. Bilbo’s heart remains indifferent. Warm for Frodo and Sam, cold for Thorin.

Thorin starts to realize, dragon or hobbit, he feel in love with the side that made Bilbo, and at the last possible minute apologizes and admits it. The ring is destroyed and the lava occurs. Desperate to save his hobbits and dwarf from the lava Bilbo tries to block it with his own body when a ball of fire nearly falls on them, prompting him to change, finally. He flies and barely makes it to the recently won war below before collapsing and fading right in front of them. With his last breath he forgives them, asks for forgiveness, explains his will and bids goodbye, all the while Gandalf explains the curse that was on him the entire time.

Bilbo is held in-between the land of the living and the land of the dead. Held by the Valar in chains and asked if this was what he wanted. Bilbo has no idea how long he remains in this space, chained up and prevented from moving until the Valar show him an image of the company, his Thorin and Frodo walking back to their respected homes. The orcs that survived the battle group up to ambush them. He asks the Valar if he could have one last moment with the living in order to save them. He has a choice between returning as a hobbit or a dragon. Hobbit is useless, dragon is not.

With only one choice he flies the skies like a hurricane in order to catch up to them. He makes it, just in time as orcs capture them all and are about to execute Bofur. Bilbo, with his massive weight, falls down and causes a massive quake, making many fall to the ground. He bites the orc about to execute and burns the rest who are scattered in the back.

  
He can’t stay. Just before appearing he is ordered to tell the group to go to Galadriel. He can’t mention he is under the Valar’s command. The Valar have given the company a chance to rescue Bilbo from where he is held. If they are determined and successful Bilbo can return back.  
They are, and where Bilbo is held they manage to rescue him. As one last test the Valar have shadow-like figures attack the group. When Bilbo witnesses this he pulls the chains that still tie him and keeps the group protected. Their love for him and his love for them proves to the Valar that Bilbo has changed and grant him his life back. Now the choice, will he return to what he was once, his true nature? Or will he sacrifice that and live a life with those he loves? The answer is obvious.

The last Bilbo is seen he is writing about an adventure he dreamt up. About a long journey and him having sharp teeth, and claws and is capable of breathing fire. He writes everything he remembers down. He explains a brief version of the story to Thorin, who doesn’t believe his little hobbit is capable of going around and breathing fire. Frodo calls to them to hurry for Bilbo’s birthday party. Bilbo tucks the book away and looks at his fireplace, feeling safe and home in its flames and not understanding why. He leaves for his party.

* * *

 

~~

 

There's the draft and what was going to happen. 

For traveling through the woods of Mirkwood there was a small section I wrote out already before I even got to it. The group had stopped for the night and were trying to make small conversation to combat the darkness and the eyes around them. Bilbo began telling a 'hobbits tale' that he 'learned about when he was little.' 

~~

 

“Well, there is this one story. It’s actually more folklore than anything, and only meant to be told to make a point.” Bilbo said and shuffled his feet. “The story is about a group of men who are traveling south for home. These men are the best of friends, brothers at arms and family on the road. One day this group of men runs into a lone traveler who is also heading south. The men become worried, naturally; a lone wanderer walking dangerous lands without any company, why, they were asking to be killed within sight. The men go to the traveler and find he is a man just like them. The men welcome the traveler to join them. Have company for the lonely nights in the wild. The traveler doesn’t speak and is hesitant at first but eventually gives in to the group of men’s honest smiles.

“The new company starts off with bumps on the road. The lone traveler is quiet and refuses to say more than what needed to be said. Now, understand this group of men were of the merry sort, and refused to allow anyone to be excluded from their circle. Each one attempts to encourage the traveler to interact with them, but to no avail. Each man fails and it almost looked like none of them were going to get through to the traveler until the last man attempted his turn and ended up with a stroke of luck. He managed to get an entire sentence from the traveler. After the window of opportunity opened all the men refused to let it close again and jumped at the chance. Each one of them managed to get something out of the traveler, but none of them were as close to him as the last man. One day the group is attacked on the road. To all of their surprise the lone traveler revealed to be extremely skilled in combat and took out all the foes while saving all of their lives at the same time. The men were all grateful and cheered in joy for the traveler saving their lives. They were indebted to the traveler now and promised to help him without hesitation. A friendship began growing between them, but they weren’t as strong as the friendship between the last man and the traveler.

“Days passed and their friendship only grew. The men now considered the traveler as family. When they got closer to their home the traveler suddenly bid them goodbye. He was going the other way now and wished them luck in getting home. The last man dared to ask where the traveler’s home was. With the closeness they all shared the traveler had the courage to actually tell the truth. The traveler had no home. He walked the lands trying to find a place close enough to call his own. The men were devastated when they heard this. There was no way they were going to let this brave and courageous traveler wander the lands alone anymore. They offered their home and welcomed the traveler with opened arms. They were persistent when the traveler looked to decline and refused to take no for an answer. It was the last man that helped sealed the deal and now the traveler had a home to go to.”

“Hold on,” Kili suddenly interrupted, “something bad is going to happen, isn’t it?”

“Of course something bad is going to happen.” Gloin said, “There’s a dragon involved! Bad things always happen when dragons are there.”

Bilbo flinched when he heard that and swallowed the painful ball growing in his throat. Gaining courage he continued, “With the traveler now forever by their side they continued their journey home together. They were almost there when they were ambushed. Powerful enemies this time. Even traveler couldn’t save all the men. The last few remaining men continued to fight for their lives, but they were all injured. The last man was about to suffer a fatal blow but the traveler jumped in-between the last man and the sword about to end his life. To all of their surprise they found the traveler completely uninjured with a sword placed on his throat. He should be dead, by all accounts he was struck with a sword and a fatal blow, but he wasn’t. From out of nowhere the traveler released fire from his mouth. He breathed it out and set their enemies ablaze, revealing that he was a dragon. The men were shocked to realize their traveling companion was in fact a dragon and called him a monster. They ran for their lives, abandoning the traveler and the last man. The traveler tried explaining to the last man that he wasn’t a monster. He was his friend. The last man refused to hear or believe anything the traveler said. When the traveler tried to get near him the last man struck. He tried to stab the traveler with his knife, but just like the enemies the knife was prevented from cutting through the skin. The traveler was betrayed, and even after saving their lives the men deserted him and called him a monster. The pain was worse when the last man severed their friendship completely. The traveler was never heard from again and continues to walk the land, trying to find a home and the friendship he once had.”

Bilbo took a deep breath when he was finished and looked at the dwarves for their reaction.

“What kind of story is that?” Dwalin asked with growing anger. “The traveler was the dragon the whole time and saved the men? Dragons don’t save. Dragons kill.”

“That is quite the story.” Commented Balin. “Certainly an unusual twist.”

“Why would the dragon even help?” asked Kili. “What did it hope to gain?”

“No doubt the trust of the men so the dragon could steal their gold and finish them off on its own.” Thorin said with malice.

~~

 

This was basically Bilbo's attempt to explain he was really a dragon. Give them a warning for if it ever came up because he was seeing the dwarves as friends now. 

And another section I wrote out was Bilbo disappearing. After he changed into a dragon his body was finally free. The freedom he wanted was death and so he was getting it, even after he came to regret it. There's nothing he could do to stop it. 

~~

 

“May you be cursed to love and cherish those beneath you, and beg for freedom but never acquire it. Live a never ending life and suffer with what you deemed unworthy, and only get the peace of mind you desire by means of death that can only be brought upon through sacrifice.”

“I begged for death all my hobbit life and… I’m finally getting it.” He looked at them all with his golden-grey eyes. Never in the history known in middle-earth had anyone ever reported dragons shedding tears, it was simply unheard of, but there was no mistaking what was trickling down the grand eye of their beast-friend. Tears, almost as big as their heads, glided down. They zigzagged through the scales until they reached the ground, creating a wet spot that darkened the soil.

All of them felt their own tears building up at the sight. Frodo most of all. His face was covered with them. Some running to his mouth as his eyes turned an unhealthy shade of pink. He was crying, screaming, begging for Bilbo, and when the young hobbit took a step forward once again nobody stopped him.

Bilbo gave each one of them a meaningful look, shedding a single tear for every friend and family he spotted. There was nothing to be done now. He had waited all his so-called miserable life for this moment, but now that it was happening he found it wasn’t everything he imagined. He didn’t feel happiness. He didn’t feel peace. He felt empty, a painful empty that he had suffered through for so long.

“…I don’t want to go.” He finally said with a heartbreaking choke.

His time was up, and with one final tear and one last look at his friends and family he closed his eyes and laid his head back down, never to raise it up again. He never saw the company break down in sobs, or kneel from the sheer pain, or look away to pretend it never happened. He was never able to witness his best friend, the blasted, insufferable wizard that stood by his side since the beginning, lean against his staff for support as his beard became dripped with tears that had been held for centuries. But above all, he was never there to see the king of dwarves, King under the Mountain, kneel down just inches away from his head with his young, hobbit nephew by his side, both crying one last time with his name passing their trembling lips.

They watched as the body of their beloved friend began to fade away. Turning a sickening color of ash and slowly blown like smoke across the sky. No evidence of their friend or family was left behind for them to honor. Through the sky the ashes flew. They never slowed nor did they speed off. Those willing for one last look watched as they disappeared in the sky, leaving them behind and never giving them a chance to follow.

* * *

 

 

This is all I have. This was the story if I had managed to continue. 

I'm abandoning this work, letting it rest after so long of inactivity. I give no one permission to try and finish this. Please let it just be at peace. 

And thank you for having joined me. While I was unable to see this come to an end, your support and comments meant everything to me while working on it. I'm just sorry that I couldn't let you see how I envisioned it. 

Thanks for reading! 


End file.
